Sakuran
by Shiraume
Summary: BL/PG-13. Divergent/Alternate reality. Muraki&Hisoka, Tsuzuki&Hisoka. Falling sakura has always brought back too many memories for Hisoka. In a moment of anger and despair, Hisoka makes a wish that changes everything, a wish that has consequences.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** Yami no Matsuei does not belong to me. The idea of this fic wasn't entirely novel, either, but the content is relatively original. Feel free to disagree with me. Again, shounen ai warning: boy-boy love ahead! Also, possible squick pairing. You've been warned. Set after anime episode 13, the middle of manga volume 9. Hisoka-centric-ish.

"Sakuran" means falling sakura.

* * *

**SAKURAN**

**by Shiraume**

[February 3, 2003 - April 26, 2003]

**PROLOGUE**

_ Ivory skin, gem-like eyes _

_ That night…_

_ You were as beautiful as a blossoming sakura_

_ … in the darkness..._

_ – Muraki Kazutaka, from "King of Sword," _Yami no Matsuei_ by Matsushita Yoko_

* * *

Sakura petals fell in an endless rain, swirling in the light breeze, filling the air with cloyingly sweet smell. Many would have found the sight breathtaking.

Kurosaki Hisoka detested it.

_ Too many memories…_

A drop of moisture landed on his upturned face, and Hisoka blinked. _Wonderful_, the boy thought sarcastically, _it's raining_. The green-eyed shinigami quickened his pace, heading to the nearest building. As luck would have it, the said nearest building, the kenjutsu dojo, was still at least ten minutes away, and by the time Hisoka arrived, he was drenched.

It was too early to be in the office, and he needed to dry his clothes before he got sick. Okay, he wasn't very likely to die of pneumonia, but it would be decidedly unpleasant if he got sick. So the young shinigami went into the dojo, and quickly changed into his training outfit. After leaving his clothes to dry, he settled for a morning practice. He sat down on the wooden floor quietly, clearing his mind and centering himself like he had been taught. Try as he might, however, his thoughts refused to settle; the recent Kyoto incident lay heavily in his mind. Oriya's words had left few unresolved questions that just would not leave him alone.

_ Hisoka, what do you fight for?_

By that, Hisoka knew Oriya meant, "Why do you fight Muraki?" Hisoka had never questioned his reasons for hating Muraki. But was this a fight he could ever win?

_ You cannot win against Muraki…he hates and curses the entire world._

Hisoka picked up his bokken, savagely putting himself into stance. Maybe if he concentrated, he could block out the words that stirred anger and hopelessness inside him. Maybe he could stop feeling his helpless defeat he had yet to admit.

_ You cannot win with hatred alone._

The wooden blade whistled and cut across the air as the youth forcefully brought it down with enough force to crack the wooden floor, had it actually touched the surface. Oriya's calm voice floated back to him endlessly, deafening in its quietness, maddening in its serenity. His hand clenched white on the bokken handle, Hisoka fought against the rising anger. It was then something on the floor caught his attention.

Sakura petals.

The bokken slammed into the floor with bruising force, and his hands ached from the impact, but Hisoka was already beyond care.

"WHAT CAN I DO BUT HATE? AFTER BEING KILLED BY HIM, WHAT _ELSE_ CAN I DO?"

Only silence answered his question, wrenched from the depth of his heart. Prostrate on the wooden floor, Hisoka screamed.

_ Hisoka…I want you to know…that I did not love a criminal._

His desperate screams did nothing, just like that fateful night, five years ago, when he first met Muraki.

_ …I…_

His hands clamped over his ears so tightly that it hurt, but it still did not drown out Tsubaki-hime's voice.

_ …I…loved a human being._

Hisoka's throat felt raw and hoarse, worn out from the screaming. He knelt on the floor, with neither the will nor the strength to pick himself up. Long, uncounted minutes passed as he stayed like that, numb from inside out, too tired to care.

_ I wish…_

"…I wish that monster had never been born."

_ Is that what you really wish…?_

The clear voice jolted him out of his numb, blank state, and Hisoka sat up. For a second there, he could have sworn that he heard Tsubaki-hime. The young shinigami shook his head. It was ridiculous. Tsubaki-hime was dead; he had shot her through the heart himself.

Mechanically, Hisoka picked himself up and left for the office. He spent the entire day in numb apathy, too numb to even notice the painfully forced cheer on Tsuzuki's part.

That evening, tired beyond sleep, Hisoka collapsed onto his bed. That night, stirring in restless sleep, he found himself in his most persistent nightmare.

The falling sakura…

…sakuran…

…and Muraki.

**END PROLOGUE**

* * *

**A/N:** This fic started with the assumption that the reader will be familiar with YnM anime or manga. Please let me know if I confused anyone at any point. Also, if you see a canon misunderstanding or mistake on my part, please, tell me!

1. The scene was taken almost directly from the volume 9 of Yami manga, except it wasn't raining that day. ^^; And I do not know whether the place was a dojo or a gym, or whatever. In anime timeline, this is after episode 13, the conclusion of Kyoto incident.

2. In the real manga timeline, after Hisoka has his scream, Konoe-kachou comes in. My story deviates from the manga starting at that moment, just after Hisoka screams.

3. I have a different language version of Yami manga (not Japanese or English). I translated the quotes I used in this fanfiction myself, directly from my books. Please do not be offended if my quotations differ from what gives.

4. I mostly followed the anime timeline since I adore the anime version of Yami, except when manga explanation was necessary. In the case of a manga-anime discrepancy, I went with the manga, as I interpret the manga to be closer to the original creator's intent.

5. Ani-BEE was kind enough to help me with identifying Hisoka's wooden practice sword: it was a bokken. Thank you for your help, Ani-BEE!


	2. Part One: Chance Meetings

**SAKURAN **

_**by Shiraume**_

**PART ONE: Chance Meetings**

The morning was bright and happy, filled with birds chirping away.

"Ugh..."

Hisoka turned, putting a pillow over his head. He normally did not indulge in oversleeping, but he had had a rough night filled with nightmares, and felt like he had not slept at all. Still, he knew he had to get to work, so he got up slowly, dressed and ate in automation, and walked to Enmacho building. He had gotten up later than usual, so Hisoka skipped his morning practice, and went straight to the Shokan Division office.

"Good morning, Kurosaki-kun, Tsuzuki-san. Please come into my office when you finish cleaning up that mess," Tatsumi said in greeting, indicating the jumble of files littered around their desk. Just when Hisoka was about to reply, he was interrupted by his partner's loud assent.

"Haaaai!"

Taken aback, the green-eyed shinigami eyed Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki seemed... cheerful. In fact, too cheerful. There was nothing forced or pained about him at all. It was as if he had suddenly forgotten all of the painful experiences in Kyoto. Oh, how Hisoka wished everything that happened in Kyoto was just a nightmare.

"Hisoka, come on!"

"Aa."

Masking his surprise, he followed his over-eager partner who was bounding over to Tatsumi's office. He had to admit, he was curious; Tatsumi rarely called them to his office, save for very special occasions.

"Ah, there you are. Muraki-kun, these two are the ones I told you about."

Hisoka froze. There was someone in Tatsumi's office, and that person bore uncanny resemblance to...

Platinum hair that fell softly against the snow-white skin.

Silver eyes, slit like a cat's.

"Muraki!"

After a moment of surprised silence, Tatsumi was the first to speak.

"Kurosaki-kun, Muraki-kun, do you know each other?"

Hisoka was too shaken to reply, and Tsuzuki, wearing a look of utter confusion, looked back and forth from the two (apparent) youths.

"Hisoka?"

"Please excuse me...but have we met? I'm afraid I can't quite recall."

Something was off. Disregarding for the moment the mildly questioning gaze of Tatsumi and the confusion of Tsuzuki, Hisoka concentrated on Muraki. He seemed different somehow, like...

Like for one, he was physically much younger, almost around Hisoka's age.

"Kurosaki-kun, Tsuzuki-san, this is Muraki Kazutaka-kun, who has just transferred to Shokan. He will be assisting you on a number of assignments from now on, until a suitable partner is chosen for him."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Kurosaki-san, Tsuzuki-san."

"Yoroshiku na, Kazutaka," Tsuzuki said brightly, but Muraki Kazutaka flinched, and Tsuzuki noted his reaction with surprise.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing...it's..." All three watched the silver-haired youth trying visibly to collect himself. Hisoka felt the swirl of violent emotions fleeting through the other boy's mind, clear and identifiable for once. There were many, many emotions, in stark contrast to the adult version of Muraki he had known, but the most prominent ones were pain and fear – a terrifying mixture that chilled him right to the bone.

The Muraki Kazutaka he knew did _not_ feel fear.

Hisoka's mind was still reeling from shock, and he only vaguely noticed that the emotions were settling as Tsuzuki's palpable concern soothed Muraki's sudden agitation.

"It's just that...someone said that to me once, exactly in those words." [1]

"Who?" Pointedly, Tatsumi gave Tsuzuki a look, the same one the secretary always gave him whenever the amethyst-eyed shinigami, well, put his foot in his mouth.

"Saki. He...was my half-brother."

Fortunately for both Muraki and Hisoka (who was vicariously feeling every bit of the troubled emotions Muraki felt), Tsuzuki quickly dropped the subject. Even when he did not understand the whole picture, Tsuzuki was extremely sensitive to others' feelings, and he had instantly noticed the sudden look of pain and fear on Muraki's part.

"I'm sorry if I said something to upset you. I didn't mean to."

"It's quite all right, Tsuzuki-san. Really."

Watari burst in just then, 003 hovering about his ear, and saved them from the awkward moment.

"Yo! So you're the new kid, right? Come on, then! Let me introduce you to the rest of the crew!"

Hisoka was glad to see Watari dragging out the newest addition to the Shokan Division before Tatsumi could object. He desperately needed some time to sort this out. He had not even been able to utter a single syllable since first laying his eyes on the younger version of Muraki.

"Kurosaki-kun, are you all right?" Tatsumi's voice brought him out of his numbed state, and Hisoka tried to gather his thoughts.

"...You said his name was Muraki Kazutaka, right?"

"Yes."

"And he's a shinigami."

"He has been a Juohcho employee for the past sixteen years," Tatsumi replied steadily. If he was taken aback by Hisoka's questions, he did not show it.

"How did he die?" Tsuzuki's curiosity obviously had not been sated. For once, the green-eyed shinigami welcomed his partner's direct if untactful approach. At least it spared him the burden of asking.

"He was murdered by his half-brother, Shidou Saki."

Silence reigned. In their shock, neither shinigami moved or even spoke, but Hisoka could sense a rare surge of anger in usually cool Tatsumi. The only other time he remembered seeing the Enmacho's secretary angry was when Muraki had cornered Tsuzuki with the flesh-eating monsters in Kyoto. Now, Tatsumi's anger was for the sake of none other than Muraki Kazutaka.

"Was his murderer ever punished?" Tsuzuki asked in a subdued tone.

"No. Shidou Saki seems to have disappeared after murdering his entire family. We couldn't find him even with all the resources of Juohcho for the past sixteen years."

"Where was he assigned before?" Tsuzuki was even more wildly curious than usual. If it had been any other time, Hisoka would have found it cute, though he would never admit it.

"Kanto, under Taisencho, by his own request. I believe that's where his family had lived." [2]

"How come we've never met him before?" Hisoka questioned very quietly. Tatsumi was always patient with him, taking into account that Hisoka had been with them for only two years, he supposed.

"He worked as a Juohcho employee, yes, but until recently he wasn't a shinigami. Besides, Shokan Division's parameter within Juohcho is rather limited. There are countless Juohcho employees whom most of the Shokan employees have not and likely will never meet." [3]

"Now that you mention it, I remember hearing about him," Tsuzuki said thoughtfully, earning a mildly exasperated look from Tatsumi, "He's the genius from Taisencho, huh? The workaholic who never took a vacation in sixteen years?"

"Yes, Tsuzuki-san, there are people who actually take their job seriously."

"Tatsumi! So mean!"

Tatsumi ignored him, and went on explaining.

"He was asked to join Shokan Division several times before. He declined, citing as his reason that our duties often involve violent crimes," Tatsumi sharply glanced at the puppy-eared shinigami, in a clear suggestion why Muraki might not like being reminded of his brother, and thus the manner of his own death. Tsuzuki caught on quickly, and looked appropriately contrite.

"I feel so bad for him. I brought back the worst memories for him."

"Yes, probably." Despite the clipped tone, there was a smile lurking under it. In the past, Hisoka had often wondered whether or not Tsuzuki _was_ really that oblivious to the obvious affection underlying Tatsumi's distant behavior.

"Tatsumiiiiii..."

"You should be more careful about what you say, Tsuzuki-san."

"I'll apologize! I promise!"

"You'd better. Now, get back to work. Since you don't have a case yet, why don't you show Muraki-kun around? He will need your help to adjust as quickly as possible."

"Haaaaaai!" Tsuzuki answered for both of them, and bounced out of Tatsumi's office. Numbed by shock, Hisoka followed Tsuzuki outside in silence. As soon as they left the office, however, the two shinigami of Kyushu found Watari jumping from place to place – literally – and dragging a rather surprised Muraki behind him. Incredulous, Hisoka silently watched the silver-haired boy (since that was what Muraki appeared to be) as he was introduced to the rest of the office. He seemed a bit shy, yet friendly and courteous. Terazuma was being polite and civil in his own gruff way, and Wakaba was smiling exuberantly at him.

_What is going on? How..._

His mortal enemy, the man who had raped and murdered him was right before him in the guise of a beautiful teenager, shy but sweet, with a smile as gentle and fragile as a skittish doe.

It did not make sense in any stretch of imagination.

_How is this possible? Am I dreaming?_

The world around Hisoka faded into white nothings, and the noises of the office started to distort as if from a great distance. It was like falling into water and looking up to see the light and sound scattered and distorted through the rippling surface.

"Hisoka?"

...And Hisoka let himself drift down further.

* * *

_Hisoka..._

Someone was calling. The voice was familiar, yet somehow out of place.

_Hisoka...please wake up._

Was he asleep, then?

_Open you eyes...I need to talk to you..._

He struggled to obey the gentle voice, but his eyelids were so heavy...

_I don't have much time...please..._

His eyes focused on the dark blue eyes, luminous on a familiar, sweet face framed by the chin-length hair. There was a red camellia tucked behind the left ear, starkly red against the midnight black locks.

"You are finally awake."

"Tsubaki-hime..."

Perhaps he had lost it completely. How else could he be seeing a teenaged version of Muraki and the dead Tsubaki-hime?

"Hisoka, I don't have much time, so listen closely."

"Am I dreaming...?"

"Yes. Yes, you are. So listen. I brought you into your dream to talk to you."

"I saw Muraki... Now I see you. Are you real?"

"Hisoka, the sensei you saw is real. He is what he might have been if Saki had not been in his life. Saki drove him mad, Hisoka. He took everything from sensei. And for sixteen years, his heart was corrupted beyond repair. But now, you see, that never happened."

"What are you talking about?"

"The sensei you and I know...his brother Saki tried to kill him when they were both sixteen, but Saki was killed by a servant before he could succeed. That changed sensei. But what if Saki _did_ succeed? This is the "what if," Hisoka. Sensei was the one who died, and so remained unchanged. Do you understand?"

"How is this possible? Is that," Hisoka gestured vaguely with his hand, "world even real?"

"It's the same world you've been living in, just altered slightly by what you wished."

"_What_? When did I wish for _this_ to happen?"

"You wished the 'monster' in sensei had never been born. And he has not, because he did not ever have a chance to."

_You see...he was not very different from you once..._

Where had he heard those words before? Another, colder fear seized his heart in an icy grip, reminding him. Trying his best to keep his eyes fixed on Tsubaki-hime's, he forced out the words.

"But what happened to me...am I the only person who remembers...that?"

She did not answer, but the young shinigami knew it was not because she did not understand what he was asking.

"Did it even happen...?"

Tsubaki-hime was looking at him with such sympathy and understanding, and Hisoka would have fidgeted in discomfort had he been his usual self. The guilt-ridden look of Tsubaki-hime told him the answer, and a sudden, humorless laugh escaped him.

"So, it was still my lot in life to be raped and murdered by some sick, psychotic, murdering monster."

"Hisoka...I'm sorry."

"What are you? How did you do _this_?"

Tsubaki-hime looked strangely sad for few minutes, her eyes gazing into the distance without focusing on anything.

"There are different ways the lost souls can redeem themselves after the Juohcho's judgment. I chose to serve a higher power that oversees the fate of this world. It is the higher power that granted your wish; I am merely its agent."

"So you changed what happened?"

"...No. You did."

"Right. I wished it."

"I know it didn't quite turn out the way you would have expected, but yes. You wished to be free of sensei. You wished for it more than anything else."

"So I became free of him, only to be claimed by another like him?"

"Hisoka..."

"Do I even know who it was?" She remained silent. After a moment, Hisoka laughed bitterly. "Forget I asked. Why should you even tell me? I murdered you, after all."

Warm arms went around him, and Hisoka nearly flinched away, but Tsubaki-hime held on. Her slim shoulders shook silently, and guilt crashed down on him as he realized that she was crying.

"Tsubaki-hime, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

"No, you're right. I should tell you everything. But I can't. Please, Hisoka, believe me. This is a second chance, as much for you as for him. Neither the fate nor the world has really _changed_. They merely shifted. You might even say that the fate was cheated in a way. But _changing_ the fate itself – that's far beyond what I am allowed to do. The power that I serve would never allow it."

"Why do _I_ remember the world as it was before, while apparently no one else does?"

"Because you are the one who made the wish. You alone are responsible for your wish. And I am not allowed to tamper with your memories."

"Wonderful." Hisoka's tone was flat.

"Hisoka..."

"The incident at Kyoto...it didn't happen as I remember it, did it?" The memories of Kyoto were still fresh in his mind, and often brought a chill in his heart whenever he remembered just how close he came to losing Tsuzuki for good.

"You and Tsuzuki-san _were_ assigned to that case, but it was a relatively simple case involving illegal human cloning. Same with _Queen Camellia_. Everything in your life happened as you remember, except Muraki-sensei wasn't involved in any of them."

"So that's why Tsuzuki is..."

"He doesn't remember because for him, the Kyoto incident was nothing like how you remember it. To him, it was just another assignment, nothing special. I'm sorry it has to be this way. I wish there was something I could do."

With pained resignation, Hisoka looked away.

"In a way, I'm glad," he whispered, "because that means Tsuzuki never had to go through so much horror."

"You are too kind..."

The voice was fainter, and the body that pressed against his felt less substantial. Hisoka's eyes widened as Tsubaki-hime's body became transparent and immaterial, dissolving into the air around them.

"Tsubaki-hime!"

"I'm sorry... I have to go now."

"Will I ever see you again?" slipped out before he could stop himself, and the young shinigami flushed as the girl smiled.

"Perhaps..." her whisper lingered even after she disappeared.

* * *

"HISOKA!"

Green eyes opened, unfocused and staring.

"Tsuzuki-san, please calm down! Kurosaki-san will be all right."

When his eyes finally focused, he saw a pair of perfect, silvery eyes looking down at him with concern.

"Are you alright, Kurosaki-san? How do you feel?" The voice was different, slightly higher in pitch, warmer, and Hisoka could almost forget this was Muraki.

"...okay..."

"Do you feel lightheaded?"

"No."

"Try to sit up. Here, let me help you."

Hisoka reflexively flinched, but the hands that helped him up were warm and gentle, two traits he associated simultaneously only with Tsuzuki. The boy almost relented. Almost.

"I'm fine," the boy shinigami snapped with more force than necessary, and felt Muraki's emotions shift from surprise to hurt. He would have felt guilty, if the other had been anyone but Muraki.

"Wait, you shouldn't –"

Before he could stop himself, Hisoka flinched and jerked out of the other boy's reach.

"I said I'm _FINE_!"

The Shokan staff was stunned, the empath could feel, judging from various emotions flowing into him. He was reserved and sometimes irritable, but never this rude. His apparently ungracious and ungrateful behavior seemed to have shocked his colleagues.

"Thank you for your concern," Hisoka bit out before he walked away, away from all those emotions pouring in summer rain. The emotions were not voices, however, and he could not shut them out by slamming the office door. So he walked away quickly, to be alone, and to think.

Meanwhile, in the office, Muraki Kazutaka looked after the door which had closed behind the green-eyed shinigami, vaguely hurt and not a little confused.

"Ah...Muraki-san...I don't know what's with Kurosaki-kun today, but usually he's very nice." Wakaba's worried voice reached his ears, kind and reassuring.

"Yeah. He probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Don't worry about it, kiddo. Bon's all right. Don't let it bother you."

Muraki managed a smile at Watari, but said nothing.

"Um, yeah. Why don't you come with me? I can show you around and stuff," Tsuzuki was worried about his partner, but knew from experience going after him now would aggravate Hisoka even further. Besides, Muraki looked like he could use an assurance or two, no matter how he tried to hide it.

"Yeah, he has nothing better to do anyway. He is the oldest and most useless worker of all Enmacho," Terazuma's comment was clearly aimed at Tsuzuki, and Tsuzuki rounded on him with familiar irritation, others momentarily forgotten.

"Shut up, Terazuma!"

The silver-haired boy's smile became less forced, and Watari shooed him and Tsuzuki out of the office, knowing that Tsuzuki's usual friendliness would work its charm quickly enough. As they navigated through the corridors, Tsuzuki exuberantly rattled off the facts about various Enmacho offices, employees, and most importantly, the food locations. Muraki listened politely, occasionally asking questions.

"Tsuzuki-san..."

"You can just call me Tsuzuki," came the easy answer.

"It does not sound appropriate," Muraki objected. Politeness had been hammered into him since birth, and it was difficult to forgo, even after death.

"All right, then. Call me whatever you want. I don't mind!"

"Ah, well..." he skirted the issue for the moment, "Was it something I did? Kurosaki-san, I mean. He is your partner, right? You must know."

"Yeah. You see, Hisoka – ah, well, he has a hard time around other people, bad experiences, empathy and all. You have to be patient, but he's really a nice person."

"You seem to care about him a lot." Muraki kept his tone neutral, not wishing to appear prying.

"Well...he's my partner."

"He's lucky, then," a smile curled the boy's lips, delicate shade of a sakura blossom. The smile on the beautiful face was enough to make Tsuzuki return it eagerly, and the older shinigami placed a hand on the other boy's head, mussing the hair a little.

"Cheer up. Hisoka doesn't mean anything by it. Trust me."

"Okay."

"Um, Kazu – Muraki-kun –"

Muraki smiled gently at Tsuzuki's attempt to correct the earlier 'mistake'.

"It's all right. Please just call me Kazutaka."

"Is that alright?"

"Yes, of course. That's how my friends called me when I was younger, when I lived in Kyoto."

"Oh. Okay, then. If you don't mind."

"I don't," the younger shinigami returned genuinely. Tsuzuki exuded the kind of kindness and warmth he had only ever felt from Ukyou. The edges of his smile turned wistful as he remembered. He could only watch, forever a spectator but never a participant, as Ukyou grew up and turned into a beautiful woman. She had remained single, Muraki knew that much, although he could not guess why. He did know that she and Oriya saw each other occasionally, and were involved semi-romantically; he had seen them together once, while he was out on an assignment. It did not make him jealous to know that his best friend and childhood crush were involved with each other. He knew the two of them would be perfect for each other, but still...

It made him feel even lonelier, to watch them as they moved on with their lives, unable to contact them or even alert his presence in any way. He wished far too often that he could be part of their life once again, though he knew it was impossible. The knowledge did nothing to dull his loneliness and longing for his lost life.

Muraki closed his eyes.

A warm hand settled on his shoulder, and the silver-eyed shinigami opened his eyes and found amethyst eyes fixed on him.

"Are you all right?"

"...Yes. I was just thinking."

"Do you miss Kyoto?"

"In a way. I lived there for a long time before moving to Tokyo. Have you ever been to Kyoto?"

"Yes. Kyoto is one of my former areas. Tatsumi and I used to work there before we split up."

"Tatsumi-san? You two were partners?" The Enmacho secretary had not mentioned this to him. Did Shokan Division have a "don't ask, don't tell" rule or something?

"Yeah. I've been around for a while."

"Tsuzuki-san, is it true that you are a senior employee here?"

"Did Konoe-kachou tell you that?"

"No, Watari-san."

"He did, did he? What else did he say?" Tsuzuki's eyes narrowed, only half in jest. Damn Watari and his big mouth... If there were any gossips going around in the office, Watari could be trusted to remember and recite all of them by heart, in the chronological order.

"Not...much," Muraki answered, barely hiding his mirth, "I was just wondering if you could teach me few things. I heard you can summon twelve shikigami."

"Oh. That." Tsuzuki's eyes darkened for a second, but it passed before Muraki could notice. "I'll be glad to help you with anything you need."

"Thank you so much, Tsuzuki-san."

"You're welcome!"

Looking at Tsuzuki's exuberant smile, Muraki felt his darker thoughts dissipating like the mist under the sun. His experience at Kyushu was promising to be quite interesting already.

**END OF PART ONE**

* * *

A/N:

[1] Believe or not, this is important, and will be made clear later. Also, Tsuzuki is very informal with other people including Hisoka (he calls Hisoka by his first name from fairly early on, unlike Tatsumi, who still calls him "Kurosaki-kun"), so I assume he would be with Kazutaka, too. It would be considered slightly rude, however, in a more formal setting or between adults.

[2] Kanto includes Tokyo. Muraki in original Yamiverse is a doctor at a Tokyo hospital. I have no idea whether his family lived there or not, but for the purpose of this fanfiction, they did. By the way, Kyoto is under Kinki in case anyone wants to know. Further information about the regions can be found at: www . jinjapan . org

[3] This is part that is a bit hazy, since Matsushita-sensei does not explain Juohcho in details in _Yami no Matsuei_. From what she tells us in her "Basic Juohcho Lecture I," there are ten departments, listed here from the First to the Tenth Block: Shinkoucho (Okinawa), Shokoucho (Kyushu), Souteicho (Shikoku), Gokancho (Chugoku), Enmacho (Tokyo), Henjoucho (Kinki), Taisencho (Kanto), Heizeicho (Tohoku), Toshicho (Hokkaido), and Godoutenincho (Chubu).

"Basic Juohcho Lecture I" is found at the back of Yami manga volume one, and a translated version is available at the wonderful Theria . net.

All ten department seem to have employees (like the Kanawa sisters from Souteicho) in _Yami no Matsuei_, but whether the title "shinigami" applies to all division, I have some doubts. (Please note in my fanfiction Tatsumi initially replies that Muraki is "a Juohcho employee.") But I would like to point out that Shokan is probably not the only division under Enmacho, since if it is there would be only eighteen employees in Enmacho altogether, which makes little sense to me. Her manga's premise of shinigami actually bases itself on Asian myths about the gods' realm, but not everything accords with the traditional myths, so please make your own judgments.

All the corrections were made possible by: Aeanagwen and Evil Asian Genius. Thank you!


	3. Part Two: Advent

Before I go any further, I must mention that the idea of young Muraki becoming shinigami was used first in RubyD's fanfiction, "Searching for Eden". The entirety of this fanfiction was written from February 3, 2003 to April 26, 2003, but I had not read "Searching for Eden" when I was writing this.

"Part One: Chance Meetings" has been updated to reflect some corrections. Thank you, Aeanagwen and Evil Asian Genius!

_This chapter is dedicated to Jehzavere, my beta, my inspiration, and my dearest friend._

**SAKURAN**

**_by Shiraume_**

**PART TWO: Advent**

It was raining in Nagasaki.

Hisoka wandered down the dock, where he had accepted Tsuzuki as a partner for the first time after the Nagasaki vampire case. It was also the place he had met Muraki for the first time in three years. Actually, those things had not happened, had they? At least not the way he remembered them. In fact, he was beginning to obtain a new set of memories in addition to the old, though his original recollection of the events did not change or disappear. His mind recalled the original memories as the default, however, and it usually took him few minutes to sort out which memories were relevant to this changed, familiarly strange world.

He remembered, in the new set of the memories of Nagasaki, his encounter with Muraki or whoever his killer was did not happen. Tsuzuki had never found out what had happened to him, beyond that he was killed by a curse. Yet...it left Hisoka with mixed feelings. The last thing he wanted was other people finding out about his past, but the fact the old Tsuzuki knew about it had helped him more than he had admitted to himself. The current Tsuzuki had fewer reasons to play the mother hen and hover over him constantly like an overprotective shadow. That intrusiveness was gone.

But so was a certain closeness.

Kyoto incident had never happened. He had never thrown himself into the raging fire, into Tsuzuki's shaking arms, to declare just how much Tsuzuki meant to him. Tsuzuki did not know, and probably never would, but Hisoka did. And he could not forget even if he wanted to.

Clutching the rails over the pier convulsively, Hisoka forced his thoughts to more recent events.

It had been just over two weeks since the teenaged Muraki came to Kyushu. The days had passed mostly with Hisoka avoiding Muraki thoroughly and meticulously. Nevertheless, being so physically near Muraki had managed to unnerve and rattle him thoroughly. If he did not sort himself out soon, another scene would inevitably follow, one possibly worse than the last. However, so much as a glimpse of Muraki tended to stop any conducive train of thought altogether, so he had broken Meifuu's laws for the first time since the Nagasaki case to come to Earth alone.

Hisoka took a deep breath. If nothing else, for his own sanity, he had to figure out how he was going to deal with Muraki. This Muraki definitely acted differently from the adult version that he knew. He was polite and shy and nice to everyone. Always mild-mannered and smiling, invariably kind with a subtle undercurrent of pain and loneliness, he reminded Hisoka too much of Tsuzuki. Yes, the young Muraki felt differently. Hell, the fact he could actually _feel_ what this Muraki felt all the time was different enough.

Could this new Muraki be truly different?

The teenager version of Muraki was serious, collected, and meticulous. He was most definitely a perfectionist, but also courteous and knowledgeable. Considerate and sensitive to others' feelings, the only traits that the younger Muraki apparently shared with the older one were the controlled personality and the deep interest in medicine. There was nothing false or shady about Muraki at all as far as he could sense. From his furtive observations over the last few days, he could find no traces of darkness or danger from Muraki and it was almost...disappointing, in a way. It gave him less reason to hate the man, after all.

Besides, the boy was so unfailingly polite that Hisoka had found himself tiptoeing around Muraki automatically out of sheer habit. It was bad enough feeling the constant confusion all around the cramped office all the time. Setting off another long chain of confusion and vague hurt in Muraki like the first day, and getting himself dragged along for the ride, was decidedly unpleasant.

If Hisoka was honest with himself, he could also admit another reason: Muraki was too much like Tsuzuki, with additional, youthful clarity that was so much like...

Like Tsubaki-hime.

Hisoka lowered his head until his forehead banged lightly against the railing that supported most of his weight.

The closeness he had felt between Tsuzuki and himself after the Kyoto incident, in retrospect, had started long before, in Nagasaki. Tsuzuki had been the only other person who knew everything about his past save Muraki, and while it troubled him it had also been easier in a way. While Hisoka had not been happy that Tsuzuki knew, he could always trust Tsuzuki to understand, like during their case on _Queen Camellia_. Hisoka did not bother trying to convince himself that he did not miss the intimate and special connection he had once shared with Tsuzuki. But the closeness had come from knowledge; Tsuzuki had known his past with Muraki since the Nagasaki incident. He had known about the murder of Tsubaki-hime at Queen Camellia. And Hisoka had known the truest affection which made him willing to jump into the deadly fire of Touda at Kyoto. But none of those had _happened_, as far as Tsuzuki was concerned, and Tsuzuki did not know they could easily have, had the situation been just a little bit different.

Everything came at a price. Special things came at an especially high price. And he had lost a very special something even before he realized he had it.

Hisoka sighed.

"Kurosaki-san?"

The tentative voice was right next to his ear, and Hisoka jumped. Snapping his head up, he realized that the raindrops were no longer falling on him. In fact, the rain had not been falling on his head for the past couple minutes or so.

"Mu...Muraki!"

Muraki flinched inwardly at the reflexive hostility, but did not step away, still holding the umbrella to shield both of them from rain.

"I'm really sorry. I'll leave if –"

"Muraki-san," Hisoka cut sharply, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, "it's all right. You just startled me."

"Oh," Muraki said faintly. The older shinigami inwardly chided himself. Why was it that he felt so ill at ease whenever he was around Hisoka? Hisoka was not the first, not even the hundredth to treat him as if he was below notice. Hadn't his own father looked at him exactly like that? Whatever Hisoka's reasons to dislike him, he was old enough and certainly experienced enough to know some people just did not get along with him. But Hisoka seemed to harbor an uncommonly deep-seated distrust and severe dislike towards him. They had known each other for a total of two weeks, and he was positive they had never met before. So why did Hisoka dislike him so much?

And why did it matter to him?

"Here," Muraki offered the handle of the umbrella. Hisoka gave him a mildly questioning look, the discomfort thinly veiled. Managing a wan smile, the older shinigami gently pressed the umbrella into the other's hand. "You'll get sick if you stand in the rain like this."

Before Hisoka could think of an answer, Muraki took a step back, into the rain.

"Wa...wait."

"Kurosaki-san," the word came out with a sigh. "I don't know why you don't like me, but I do know that you don't want me around. I am sorry I bothered you."

Hisoka winced. The current Muraki reminded him too much of Tsuzuki in Kyoto of his memories, walking away from him with thinly veiled hurt, making him feel useless and vaguely guilty. Whatever shot either of them had at this second chance, as Tsubaki-hime called it, if he let Muraki go now, he _knew_ with certainty that the chance would be lost. And all Tsubaki-hime had hoped for both of them...

"Muraki-san, wait."

...Her hopes would be lost, too.

"I'm sorry," Hisoka said quietly, sincerely.

The pale face half-turned, and Hisoka waited, gathering his thoughts as Muraki turned around completely to face him.

"What?" It seemed that he had taken the ever-controlled Muraki off guard.

"I know I have been rude. I apologize."

"You haven't been rude, Kurosaki-san. I just wish..." Muraki trailed off.

"What?" The question was not unkind, asked with a rare honesty that reminded Muraki of Oriya from a long time ago. So his answer, in turn, was just as honest.

"I wish I knew why you don't like me."

Hisoka closed his eyes with a sigh, taking a step back. The confused hurt was so genuine. This Muraki was not the Muraki he knew. This was someone else, someone Muraki should have been. This was the Muraki whom Tsubaki-hime had seen through the layers of evil and emptiness and loved with all her heart and soul.

For _her_ sake, if for nothing else, he knew he had to give Muraki a chance.

"All right. I owe you an explanation."

"Actually..."

"What?" The question came out sounding defensive, but Muraki did not seem to mind.

"Why don't we at least find some dry place?"

Hisoka stared at the other shinigami for a full minute. The deadpan was too reminiscent of the old Muraki, but he was almost amused at it. Very disturbing, if he thought about it.

"Whatever you say, sensei," the green-eyed boy muttered, turning to lead the way.

"What?"

"Nothing," seeing the skeptical look, Hisoka placed more emphasis on his words, "It's nothing. Really. What are you doing here, anyway? You shouldn't be on Earth alone."

"A favor from someone," Muraki answered curtly, and Hisoka, noting the finality in his tone, did not press. Besides, he was in no position to call Muraki on the violation of the rule. Soon they arrived at a café, the same one Hisoka had used as a rendezvous point with Tsuzuki while working on the vampire case.

"Are you familiar with this place?" Muraki asked, looking around.

"No. I worked on a case here, though." Hisoka was trying to keep his answer as straightforward yet unrevealing as possible. That case was still a bit of a sensitive memory for him.

"Oh."

"It was my first case, with Tsuzuki. We used this café as our meeting place." Hisoka really did not want to think about that too much, lest he kept remembering what he almost had with Tsuzuki... This was neither the time nor the place. When they picked out a table near the window and sat down, the waitress gave both of them a worried look.

"Are you two all right? Shall I get towels for you?"

"Yes, please. We would appreciate it very much," Muraki answered politely and the waitress flashed him a smile, took down the orders, and hurried away. Scarcely two minutes later, they were toweling their hair dry, and warming their frozen bodies with warm tea. It was still early spring, and the Earth's weather was cool, especially in rain. During their stays in the Meifuu, they had both forgotten how temperate the Meifuu's climate was, compared to Earth.

"So – "

"Um – "

"You go first," Muraki said quickly.

"Um, okay. First, I'm sorry I have been so difficult. It's my fault, really..." that felt...not entirely right. Hisoka paused, trying to sort his thoughts in order. It was difficult, especially because Muraki was more anxious than his mild, neutral expression indicated. The other shinigami was broadcasting nervousness like searchlight flashes, and it was very distracting.

"Muraki-san, did anyone tell you that I am an empath?"

"Hm? Watari-san mentioned it, yes."

"Then calm down. You're worried, and I can feel it. It's difficult to think when I feel your emotions so strongly."

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't realize... Is there anything– "

"It's fine!" Hisoka snapped before he could help it, and closed his eyes with an explosive sigh. It was so damned similar to talking to Tsuzuki! Scratch that. Though Hisoka had to constantly rein in his temper, Tsuzuki at least had never been this nervous when speaking to him.

"Just calm down a little. Then I'll feel a lot less of your emotions."

The young shinigami frowned when he saw his companion flush. He gave the other shinigami few moments to collect himself, but the embarrassment did not seem to be disappearing.

"What's wrong?" Okay, that sounded a little more impatient than Hisoka would have liked.

"Ah...it's just that...no one has been able to read me so easily before. It feels weird to have someone so easily know what I'm thinking."

"I do _not_ know what you're thinking. I can feel what you feel, and I can't help feeling it," Hisoka replied semi-automatically, having had experiences pointing out this crucial difference to his co-workers few times before.

"It still feels – "

"– Uncomfortable," Hisoka finished for him, "You feel vulnerable."

"Yes," Muraki admitted with some reluctance. "My father used to say it was disgraceful to let one's feelings show."

"Believe me, my parents thought the same. That and they hated me because they felt vulnerable around me. They feared me." Hisoka's voice was flat.

"I don't fear you," the silver eyes were rounded in surprised earnestness. "I was upset because you seemed to dislike me so much. I don't feel quite comfortable having my feelings read, but I don't fear you."

An involuntary laughter escaped him, surprising Hisoka as much as it did Muraki.

"Sorry. It's just that...the only person who's ever been comfortable around me is Tsuzuki. And I think Watari-san and Tatsumi-san, but I'm never around other people much. It's better when I keep my distance, most of the time."

"Physical distance helps, then?"

"Only so much. If it is a strong emotion, like fear, then I can feel it even from a distance. It depends on the intensity of the emotion." He had told Tsuzuki as much, during their case on _Queen Camellia_.

"Oh. I must have been pretty bad, for you to react like that, then."

"It wasn't that. It's...something else, with you," Hisoka managed, reluctant.

Muraki stopped himself before he asked. It had to be Hisoka's decision, and he did not want to press him. Hisoka had opened up surprisingly more than he had ever hoped. Hisoka, on the other hand, was contemplating what he could say. Obviously, he could not possibly tell this Muraki what his alternate self had done. That could destroy this chance for both of them. So he settled for a neutral question as an opener.

"Do you know how...I died?"

"N-no. I didn't think to ask."

"Someone placed a death-curse on me. That is why I became shinigami, to find out who did it." Hisoka tried to sound as clinical as possible. He had trouble thinking about how he died on his good days, but having to explain it to someone was even worse than he had thought. The unexpected jolt of sympathy and anger in the wake of his explanation was surprising, but the sudden surge of emotions was even more reminiscent of Tsuzuki. And it made him relax his guard just a tiny bit more.

"And...before that person cursed me, he..." Oh God, he could not say it even now. But the horror-filled eyes were so similar to...

...Tsubaki-hime.

"He violated me," Hisoka heard himself say, in a voice devoid of emotion or life. "Then he cursed me, so I would die slowly over three years."

The horror and anger rivaled each other in Muraki, and Hisoka was strangely relieved. He knew that Muraki would not be happy to hear this, but the same emotions that Tsuzuki showed once were now radiating from Muraki, and it was...nice. Knowing someone was so concerned for him caused warmth and reassurance to ripple through him, and gave him just enough strength to continue.

"All this...he did all of this to me, because I happened to catch him murdering someone," Hisoka explained. All right, that might or might not be entirely correct, as he could not remember anything about the circumstances of his own death in this alternate reality, but from what Tsubaki-hime hinted, he did not think they had been very different. "I feel so...uneasy around you, because you...remind me of the person who did this to me."

"What?" The shock had completely canceled out the rest of the emotions. The empath felt the rapid shift of emotions, and sensed the sudden fear which the other shinigami was trying very hard to suppress. Then, suddenly, the emotions ceased as if a gate had slammed shut, leaving only a whisper of fear trickling out from behind the walls. Hisoka did not know whether Muraki had done that consciously, but hastened to explain anyway.

"I do not know who did this to me. I remember...bits and pieces. Fragments of dreams. I _do_ know that it happened, but I do not know who it was." He was really getting uncomfortable. Muraki's eyes were dark, all attentive and intense, too much like the adult Muraki.

"But that person...looks like me?" There was flatness in his voice, a sudden waver of the walls, and something akin to mortal dread slipped through for a second.

"Kind of," Hisoka left it at that. He did not want to lie outright, but telling the whole truth was out of the question here.

"You said you don't know who did it," Muraki pointed out.

"I don't. You just...remind me of that person." That was an evasive answer if he ever saw one, but Hisoka left it at that before he gave away more.

"Oh." The silver eyes were downcast, thoughtful, pained.

"It's not you...I just...it's kind of hard to get over it. But I know it wasn't you." Hisoka wished he sounded surer than he felt. The walls were gradually melting away, leaving Muraki's emotions free to flow into him once more, most prominently a remembered pain. Muraki seemed lost in thought, biting his lower lip, his eyes clouded.

"How can you be sure?" The question was quiet and guarded, but he sounded almost...bitter. The silvery bangs fell into Muraki's eyes, and Hisoka froze for a moment, seeing the older version of Muraki superimposed over the teenager Muraki. The silver eyes lifted, and inexplicably, the young shinigami felt trapped; those eyes had not missed his momentary flash of fear. The moment passed, however, and Hisoka felt the swirl of emotions from the other shinigami: bitterness toward himself, self-doubt, guilt...and pain. Apparently, adolescent Muraki did not have such a high opinion of himself. In fact, his self-esteem almost matched Tsuzuki's.

"I know it wasn't you," his voice was now much steadier, "I _know_."

Suddenly, Muraki closed his eyes and exhaled. When he opened his eyes, there were traces of moisture glimmering on his eyelashes.

"Thank you."

Hisoka observed the older shinigami silently, feeling a rush of relief wash through his companion, but unsure of what triggered such immense relief.

"Saki...was the one who killed me," Muraki stated suddenly, and Hisoka nodded, not sure where this was going but unwilling to discourage the other. "He was my half-brother, older by two weeks or so, borne from unfaithfulness of my father. When father brought him home, I was fourteen, and I tried to get along with him, but... From the first day, the first time we met, he acted...well, very strange, at least towards me. The first time we met, he just said "Yoroshiku na, Kazutaka," with this strangest smile on his face, with this tone that sounded so sincere, but his eyes had no expression. His smile was completely empty."

With a faint shock, Hisoka recalled the strange reaction Muraki had had at Tsuzuki's first greeting. _So that was why..._

"Ever since, no matter how much I tried to befriend him, he would always just _smile_ exactly like that, with empty eyes and almost mockingly sincere voice. Then he started getting me into different kinds of troubles, and those were the only times he had any kind of expression in his eyes, when he saw me reprimanded by my parents. That went on for two years. I'd never gotten along with my father, but having Saki around just made it worse and worse. Then, just after my sixteenth birthday, my mother suddenly died."

There was pain in his voice, longing mixed with something like...relief? Hisoka declined to comment, however, and silently nodded.

"I'd always known she wasn't well, and it could have been a natural death. But I couldn't shake the feeling of wrongness, and that Saki had something to do with it. Few days later, I had huge argument with my father. The next day, father was dead. No one knew how, but the servants talked, none in my favor, mostly. And Saki followed me everywhere, suddenly solicitous, embracing me and touching me at every chance. He even gave answers to the police that cleared some of the suspicions they had about me." A bitter smile curled his lips, "And like a fool, I thought maybe Saki had finally come around, realized that we were brothers and all we had left in the world was each other."

Hisoka felt a stab of dread, suddenly feeling as if he knew where this was going. He could not bring himself to stop Muraki, however. His voice seemed frozen in his throat.

"During the funeral, I remember...Saki suddenly smiled. It was the same smile, as before, but this time he seemed so pleased about something. When we came back, he dismissed the servants from the house for the day, saying how we two should spend some time by ourselves to mourn. I was... I was afraid," Muraki swallowed dryly. "And I think one of the servants caught on to that. He asked whether I would be alright. Saki dragged me along before I said anything, and that was it. We were alone in my room. Then he pulled a katana on me. We'd both practiced kenjutsu, and he'd won every time we sparred, but I had not known that Saki kept a sharpened, real katana. He smiled, and this time, he looked..." Muraki trailed off, closing his eyes. The sickening fear and horror phased into Hisoka, and he gritted his teeth, trying to hold the vicarious emotions at bay, to concentrate on Muraki.

"I knew then. Saki had killed my parents. When I asked him that, he just laughed. When I asked him why he had done that, he just smiled and leaned down to to lick the blood he'd drawn on my face. He told me I was his, and that he'd kill anyone who tries to take me away from him. Then he started to..." Muraki stopped. His hand resting on the table was clenched, white-knuckled, and his brow was drawn in as if in intense pain. After taking few deep breaths, he continued. "He...touched me. Kissed me when I screamed, held me down with the katana in his hand... I don't know how far he'd have gone if..." Muraki paused again, took another deep breath. "The servant returned, though, and knocked on the door. He said he had a gun, so Saki should just let me go. Saki never looked so frightening before."

There was a longer pause but Hisoka waited with no sign of impatience about him. Finally, Muraki continued. "Saki ran me through with the katana," his voice was hollow, "rather than letting me go. Said he's rather send me to hell where I belonged before he let someone take me away from him. He told me that it was all my fault that everything came to this, that he killed father and mother because of me. He said I would have been better off dead, because I would turn out to be worse than he could ever be."

_Merciful heavens_, the green-eyed empath thought in horror. Had Saki done this to Muraki, even to the other Muraki he had known? If then, it was small wonder Muraki was so obsessed about resurrecting and killing Saki again. He had visited Oriya once, soon after the Kyoto incident, while Tsuzuki was still bed-ridden. He had learned from Oriya why Muraki had been so eager to get Tsuzuki, and just what the experiment had actually been about, but he had not heard anything about this. For the first time, Hisoka could not help feeling a pang of sympathy for the Muraki he once knew.

But for the Muraki of now...

"Maybe it _was_ my fault. Maybe I...led him on, made him...want me..."

Muraki and he were the same. They had fallen victim to someone else's power. However, unlike Hisoka, Muraki had been convinced that it was his own fault.

"...Maybe I am better off dead."

Those silvery eyes pleaded for an answer, asking for anything that could put an end to the doubt. Hisoka knew just how much damage he could do by saying the wrong thing; his own past had bothered him for the past two years, but Muraki's had had sixteen years to fester.

"I wouldn't know," Hisoka kept his voice completely neutral. "All I can say for certain is what I feel from you right now." He waited for Muraki to focus on him, then continued firmly, "You are not evil, Muraki-san." It was an admission, as much to himself as to Muraki, and it was true. This Muraki was not evil, and even innocent – pure – in some regards. Perhaps it _was_ fortunate that Saki killed him when he did, as cruel as the thought was.

"You are nothing like your brother. I've _known_ evil, so trust me when I tell you: you are _not_ evil."

Silence met his firm statement, and few minutes passed. Finally, Muraki met his eyes again, and his emotions were much calmer, warmer.

"...Thank you."

"Saki...wasn't the only problem, I take it?"

Muraki blinked, then closed his eyes with half a laugh. "I keep forgetting you're an empath. No, he wasn't the first one. My mother...she also called me the Devil's doll."

The green eyes widened and he reflexively leaned back, putting more distance between them. So, this was where all the things had started, for both of them.

"Your mother was not kind to you, was she?"

A wave of pain washed through both of them. Hisoka perceived that he had guessed correctly.

"She...wasn't quite right in the head. Beautiful, but she..."

"My mother wasn't kind to me, either. She would call me a demon, and tell me I wasn't her child."

"My mother called me her doll. She used to touch me like she would one of her perfect, porcelain dolls. She had quite a collection, you see. She would always throw away the dolls whenever she tired of them, or whenever fancy struck her. And I was the Devil's doll, destined to kill her. She always said I'd kill her one day. But she wouldn't let me, she said."

"Muraki-san..."

"I always wondered when she would tire of me and throw me away like the rest of them. Broken and damaged, no longer beautiful. Just like her dolls. Just like Veronica."

"Muraki-san."

"She never needed those broken dolls, she never –"

"Muraki-san!"

The silver eyes refocused as the shinigami emerged from his painful memories. Hisoka found his own hand closed over Muraki's without his knowledge, and did his best not to flinch back again.

"It wasn't your fault."

The silver eyes met green, and wavered for a moment. Muraki Kazutaka had never seemed more vulnerable, and the overwhelming despair spiraling within Muraki pulled Hisoka's thoughts back to the time when Tsuzuki had been possessed by Saagatanasu. The excruciating pain and bitter self-loathing were now in Muraki's silver eyes, unnaturally bright with unshed tears. Slowly, Hisoka moved his hand to touch the other's cheek.

"It's all right."

The glassy surface of silvery eyes fractured, and closing his eyes against the tears, Muraki lowered his head. Burying his face in his folded elbows, he cried silently. For sixteen years, he had not been able to confide this to anyone. He did not know what prompted him now, to trust Hisoka of all people with his deepest horror and secret. Perhaps it was the fact that Hisoka, too, had trusted him with a secret. It was apparent that the youngest shinigami had not confided even to his own partner.

"It will be all right," Hisoka murmured, as gently as possible, stroking the silvery hair. The platinum hair was soft – soft as Tsuzuki's midnight black strands. And the emotions flowing into him now were reminiscent of Tsuzuki's, during one cold winter night in Kyoto, a moment forever forgotten by Tsuzuki, although not by Hisoka.

However, that moment had never happened, here.

This moment was real, and it was here, now.

Hisoka let the warm feelings of gratitude and relief and trust surround him. It was nice to have such warm emotions directed exclusively towards _him_. Only Tsuzuki had ever shown him the kind of emotions that Muraki was now showering on him.

For the first time since their meeting in both worlds, Kurosaki Hisoka touched Muraki Kazutaka's hand without flinching, without hesitating.

"Come on. We've been here for too long. We should head back."

Much calmer, the Muraki nodded in answer, and got up to follow his fellow shinigami. The waitress who had kindly helped them smiled warmly as they left. The pair walked outside, only to find the rain had stopped and the spring sun shining brightly. In comfortable silence, Hisoka and Kazutaka walked together, just walking, without destination, savoring the simple peace and warmth after the long rain.

"Muraki-san –"

"Could you...perhaps call me Kazutaka instead?"

"All right, Kazutaka-san," Hisoka acquiesced easily. He wanted to re-label this person before him in a different name, with different past and future. The person he saw before him now was not Muraki he knew. It was time he accepted it.

"May I call you Hisoka-san?"

"Sure. But you are older than I am. Why...?"

"Habit. I will drop the –san if you do."

"Let's not push it," the younger said quietly. He was surprised when the older shinigami just smiled.

"Deal."

* * *

"Something must be done here."

Three blank stares met his emphatic declaration. Watari's dramatic pause was interrupted by the sound of Tatsumi calmly sipping his tea, who earned a glare for it. 003 hooted encouragingly near his ear, and Watari continued.

"The tension between bon and Kazu-kun is driving us nuts!"

"But Watari-san...wouldn't it be better to leave those two alone to work things out between them?"

The younger Gushoshin nodded as the elder said cautiously, unwilling to provoke Watari.

"We _must_ do something, for the peace and happiness of our department!!"

Tsuzuki and Tatsumi exchanged a look, feeling as skeptical as they looked, if not considerably more so. Tatsumi tranquilly turned back to his green tea, sipping quietly with his eyes closed.

"Ne, Tatsumi..."

The secretary opened his eyes to see the purple eyes peering worriedly. In his peripheral vision, Watari was still rambling on about a plan to force Kazutaka and Hisoka to talk to each other. Gushoshin, both the elder and the younger, were trying vainly to dissuade him.

"What is it?"

"Hisoka _has_ been kinda weird, lately. It's like, he can't talk to me or something. He brushes me off, like he thinks that I won't understand whatever he has to say."

"Kurosaki-kun was never an open person to begin with."

"But...lately, he's been avoiding me. I think he's keeping something from me, but..."

"Tsuzuki-san, Kurosaki-kun is a very private individual. He rarely confides anything to anyone."

"Yeah, but...I..."

"He _does_ know that you worry, and that he can trust you. He knows that better than anyone else."

"So why won't he tell me anything?"

"There can be many reasons. Be patient, Tsuzuki-san."

Suddenly, the door opened and in walked a damp Hisoka with an equally damp Kazutaka.

"Hisoka?!"

"Tsuzuki. Tatsumi-san, Watari-san, Gushoshin. What are you doing here? It's Sunday."

"Yo, bon! I invited them over for tea. What about you? Yo, Kazu-kun!"

"Hello, everyone."

"I stopped by because I left a book here." Hisoka crossed the room and picked up a book that had been inconspicuously lying on the table, Ovid's _Metamorphoses_.

"What happened to the two of you? You two are drenched."

"We found Nagasaki a little wet this time of the year," Kazutaka quipped.

"Nagasaki?" chorused the skeptical Watari and Tsuzuki.

"We?" echoed Tatsumi.

"Wet?" chimed in both Gushoshin.

"Long story," Hisoka cut before Kazutaka could elaborate. Not waiting for anyone to answer, he firmly steered his smiling companion out, only pausing to say over his shoulder a quiet, "See you tomorrow." Even before the door closed, the occupants of the room distinctly heard a resumed conversation, becoming more faint as the two shinigami walked away.

The five stared at each other, dumbfounded.

"Well, whatever problem they had seems to be resolved," Tatsumi remarked neutrally, lest the others sense his perturbation. He had a reputation to keep, after all.

"Huh," interjected Watari, his feelings clearly in accord with those of Gushoshin.

Tatsumi noticed the distant look in Tsuzuki's eyes, and his words died in his throat.

"Tsuzuki-san..."

"They look right together, don't they?"

"What?"

"I mean, they're about the same age. They could be great friends."

"You are his partner, Tsuzuki-san."

"Aa, I guess you're right."

The Enmacho's secretary held back his opinion, sensing it was currently unheard and unheeded.

Outside, the sakura petals rained down in the warm breeze of Meifuu's temperate spring.

**END OF PART TWO**

A/N: Please, when you leave review, either check that your e-mail is listed on correctly or leave a working e-mail address. I like to reply reviews, but not before or after the fanfic; other readers come to read the fanfiction, not my replies to reviews.


	4. Part Three: Past and Present

For any readers who have followed this since the prologue, please feel free to use me for target practice. I humbly apologize for the lateness of the chapter. I really have no acceptable excuse for my laziness in editing. Here's the anniversary installment of "Sakuran," unfortunately unbetaed. I promise future releases will be quicker. Hopefully.

**SAKURAN**

_by Shiraume_

**PART THREE: Past and Present**

Green eyes flew open, and Hisoka sat up abruptly from his bed. He was drenched in cold sweat, a dull throb all over his body. He could not recall what he had dreamt, just the aftertaste of an unnamed terror. Flinging the comforter aside haphazardly, he got up and left the bed.

The trip to the bathroom seemed unnaturally long, and when he arrived, he did not really want to look in the mirror and see what he looked like, his eyes glazed over with blind terror, looking more dead than ever. Mechanically, the young shinigami took off his shirt, preparing to take a hot shower. His dilated pupils finally cooperated, and his eyes adjusted to the overly bright light of the bathroom. He reached out to turn on the shower, and froze.

His curse marks were burning.

Hisoka took a hasty step back, and his breath left him in a rush as he collided into the bathroom wall. His limbs shaking, Hisoka did not even feel the cold tiles pressing against his back as he stared at the markings. The content of his nightmare was clear, even if he did not remember it. He had dreamt about _that_ night.

It was not Muraki Kazutaka who had violated him that night, not anymore.

But it was the face of Muraki, the older version, which haunted his thoughts even now.

_Could a puppet, even without its puppet master, never go back to being human?_

The question he had asked once on _Queen Camellia_ over a year ago came back to him. His lips twisted in a bitter smile as the youth remembered the _Queen Camellia_ incident had never happened, either, at least not the way he remembered. What he knew, what he remembered, what he treasured were all gone. His deepest wish had been granted, Tsubaki-hime had said. But by that, what had he gained? His memories were his burdens to bear alone, and no one, not even Tsuzuki, shared them. Didn't he lose everything instead, including the warm affection he had shared with Tsuzuki? The affection which could have become so much more...

And all for what? For his worst nightmare, for his most hated enemy to get another chance.

Hisoka let his body slide down to the floor, heedless of the tiles cold against his bare skin.

He had not gotten rid of his puppet master; he had merely exchanged one for another.

* * *

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki's tentative voice was far away, and Hisoka stared back blankly, more out of habit than actual inclination to listen. 

"Are you all right? You look really pale," Tsuzuki remarked worriedly, his violet eyes questioning and warm. "Do you have a fever?" Tsuzuki asked, reaching out to feel Hisoka's forehead.

"Don't touch me!" Hisoka jumped back, turning his chair over in his haste. Tsuzuki stared at him with surprise, quickly turning into hurt.

"Hisoka?"

"Nothing. It's nothing," Hisoka said, gritting his teeth.

"I'm sor-" Tsuzuki began to apologize, but Hisoka turned his face away irritably.

"It's not your fault. I'm just tired," Hisoka snapped. He could not tolerate any kind of physical touch. Not right now. "Excuse me," he said brusquely, unwilling to show Tsuzuki how perturbed he really was. Once outside the office, he leaned back on the hallway wall wearily, closing his eyes. Even the warm concern was stifling today. Other people's emotions flowing into him made him feel sick, almost violated, albeit mentally. He could do nothing in life, when someone took his body and used it as a plaything. Even now, after death, he couldn't stop others' foreign, unpleasant emotions from flooding him. He couldn't do a _thing_.

Feelings of helplessness swept over him. Before other people could come near him and crowd him with even more emotions, Hisoka quickly walked outside. He needed some time alone.

As he walked under the sakura trees, the petals brushing against his skin felt...unpleasant, to say the least. It reminded him far too much of those touches he felt in his dreams, insistent, subtle in their violence. Cool and soft and invasive...presence that could not be denied...hands caressing everywhere like snake slithering all over his body...making his skin crawl yet he could do nothing but scream, scream until his throat was too hoarse to emit another sound...

Those memories never happened, or had they?

Hisoka was not too sure anymore. He was certain that he had been murdered in this version of world, too, but did his killer also violate him, the way Muraki had? Did it even matter?

He would never be free. He could never become human again. He would never be able to love, or to heal. Not without Tsuzuki. But Tsuzuki did not know, not in this life. And it was not fair for Tsuzuki, who already had so many hidden tragedies in life that he only hinted at, to shoulder Hisoka's burden. Hisoka couldn't possibly confide his secret to Tsuzuki.

He had not told his past to young Kazutaka to make the other understand; he had turned to his would-have-been killer because he had nowhere else to turn to.

"Hisoka-san...?" Kazutaka's soft voice was right next to him, and Hisoka jumped, unused to having someone sneak up on him. Kazutaka looked at him with sincere concern, apologetic. "Excuse me. I didn't mean to startle you. Are you all right? You're really pale today."

"I'm fine," Hisoka replied absently, moving back few paces. Even the kindest concern was very tiring to him right now.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" Kazutaka asked, and when Hisoka did not answer, shook his head. "You really should - " Kazutaka drew closer, extending a hand towards Hisoka. Momentarily, the too-bright sunlight became too much for his fatigued state, and Hisoka swayed on his feet. Surprised, Kazutaka reached out to grab Hisoka before the boy could fall.

_The same, cool hands, brushing against his skin insistently - _

"Let _GO_!"

Hisoka tore out of the other shinigami's grasp violently, knocking the other back. Kazutaka landed on the ground, hard, and stared up at the green-eyed shinigami in surprise.

"Hisoka-san..."

"Don't touch me," Hisoka whispered. He could not see the gentle, kind expression on Kazutaka's face, only the adult Muraki, smirking at him with those cold mismatched eyes, with a knowing sneer on those lips. Hisoka shook his head, trying to clear his head, to remember where he was, and who the person before him was. The confusion and shock emanating from Kazutaka did not help, as they became stronger, overwhelming him.

_Overload - _

"Hisoka-san!"

Kazutaka's voice was far, far away, almost in another time and space, as Hisoka stumbled back a few steps. The ground rose up to meet him, then darkness blossomed before his eyes, swallowing him, and Hisoka knew no more.

"Hisoka-san!"

* * *

"I don't understand what happened. Tsuzuki-san, what if - " Kazutaka was interrupted by Tsuzuki raising a hand, stopping him. 

"Kazutaka, I'm very sure that it wasn't your fault. Hisoka was really jumpy before he went out. You know that he hates being touched sometimes, because he's an empath, right?" Tsuzuki smiled at the younger shinigami kindly, and Kazutaka bit his lip.

"He told me. But..."

"It's not you," Tsuzuki said firmly.

"...I just hope he will be all right," Kazutaka said finally.

"You like him, don't you?" Tsuzuki asked, with a gentle smile. Unexpectedly, Kazutaka blushed. Tsuzuki was just asking whether... Just why on earth was he _blushing_?

"Yes, of course. I consider him my friend. And I hope he does, too," Kazutaka answered hastily, trying to avoid Tsuzuki's eyes.

"I think Hisoka does. Underneath those icy walls, he really is a kind person. He opens up to you. If he doesn't like you, or doesn't think you're his friend, he wouldn't do that now, would he?" Tsuzuki argued reasonably, and Kazutaka had to admit it made sense.

"I suppose. It's just that...after talking in Nagasaki, I thought..." Kazutaka trailed off.

"What did you two talk about in Nagasaki?" Tsuzuki hastily added, "Um, that's if I can ask."

"We talked about different things, but chiefly, our deepest horrors, I guess." Kazutaka couldn't help a smile. Tsuzuki could go from childlike thoughtlessness to gentle sensitivity in an instant.

"Hisoka told you his deepest horror?" Tsuzuki's voice was quiet.

"Yes, and I told him mine," Kazutaka answered, slightly taken aback by Tsuzuki's serious tone.

"I see." Tsuzuki's voice was even, almost flat.

"He hasn't told you, has he?" Kazutaka asked, finally realizing what was bothering Tsuzuki.

"Whatever it is, no," Tsuzuki answered in the same even voice.

"Forgive me, Tsuzuki-san. Hisoka-san's secret is his own. I couldn't possibly divulge it without his permission, even to you." Kazutaka said, with slight frown of worry. It really wasn't his secret to tell, but he was beginning to guess what Tsuzuki was thinking.

"I understand," Tsuzuki answered with a half-smile, but did not meet Kazutaka's eyes.

"I really am sorry. But you're his partner. I'm sure you know more about Hisoka-san than I ever could," Kazutaka suggested, subtly trying to shift the subject. Tsuzuki gave him a half-smile again, but did not reply. A short stretch of awkward silence followed, until Watari's arrival.

"Yo, Tsuzuki, Kazu-kun!" Watari greeted, coming into the room. The two shinigami greeted back, scooting their chairs over so Watari could get to Hisoka.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you two seemed to get along fine for the past two weeks. So what's the problem now?" Watari threw in casually as he checked Hisoka's vital signs.

"I don't know, Watari-san," Kazutaka murmured, inwardly grateful for Watari's presence.

"Did you two have a fight?" Watari asked without glancing away from Hisoka, and Kazutaka shook his head.

"No," Kazutaka answered honestly.

"Tsuzuki, did you say something to bon?" Watari finally turned his face to fix Tsuzuki with a stern gaze, and Tsuzuki immediately went on the defensive.

"NO! Why are you even asking ME?"

"You're his partner," Watari answered with a shrug, turning his attention back to Hisoka.

"I'm not sure if I should be," Tsuzuki said thoughtfully.

"What?" Watari and Kazutaka chorused. Tsuzuki's cheerful demeanor had disappeared, and the violet eyes were filled with wistfulness.

"I think Hisoka really should hang around people his age...well, his apparent age, anyway." Tsuzuki's smile looked slightly forced, and Watari raised an eyebrow, while 003 hooted incredulously.

"Other than the fact your mental age is about ten years younger than bon's actual age, you two get along fine. So what are you babbling about?" Finished checking over Hisoka, Watari stood back and crossed his arms over his chest, looking at Tsuzuki with a critical gaze.

"I just thought it might be a better idea if..." Tsuzuki began.

"If this is about that talk we had in Nagasaki..." Kazutaka interrupted.

"No, no," Tsuzuki held up his hand hastily, shaking his head. Kazutaka was not fooled, however, and fixed the oldest shinigami with an authoritative look that rivaled Tatsumi's.

"You are being ridiculous if you think Hisoka-san prefers me to you. I think he would be very hurt if he heard that." Kazutaka's tone matched his expression in authority, and Tsuzuki wilted visibly.

"But..."

"Don't you know that Hisoka-san cares about you very much?" Kazutaka's voice was matter of fact, not angry or accusing, but Tsuzuki shrank back even further. Watari, glancing from Kazutaka to Tsuzuki, decided enough was enough.

"Oookay, this conversation is getting too personal. I suggest both of you leave now before Tatsumi gets on your case. If he wasn't so worried about bon, he would have booted both of you back to work already. At least take your discussion outside. You might wake bon, and I think he needs sleep more than anything." Watari settled on one of the chairs vacated by the two shinigami, and watched with fatherly pride as 003 personally escorted both shinigami out the door, hooting and flapping its wings emphatically. When the door closed, Watari turned his attention back to Hisoka. "Bon, you can stop faking sleep now. They're gone."

Hisoka opened an eye, and Watari gave him a sunny smile. Bon was cringing slightly in sleep, and he had surmised that Tsuzuki and Kazu-kun's emotions were crowding him. Again. He waited until the younger shinigami shifted and opened his eyes fully.

"...How did you know?" Hisoka's voice did not sound like someone who had just awakened. Watari, his suspicion confirmed, leaned back in his chair.

"You were tense. Their emotions were bothering you again, no?" Watari asked kindly, not offering help as Hisoka sat up, knowing physical touch would only make Hisoka feel worse. Hisoka sighed.

"I can't help feeling them. Even if I'm asleep, I can feel strong emotions," Hisoka explained tiredly.

"Tsuzuki was that upset, huh?" Watari asked, trying to keep his tone light.

"So was Kazutaka-san," Hisoka agreed. Watari gave him a searching look for a moment, before settling back more comfortably in his chair.

"So what's really bothering you?"

"What?" Hisoka blinked, looking at Watari with surprise.

"Something is really bothering you, or you wouldn't react like that, especially not to Tsuzuki or Kazu-kun," Watari pointed out bluntly.

"I'm just tired," Hisoka replied listlessly.

"I can see that. Any reasons?" Watari persisted. Bon looked like the walking dead, and he wasn't about to let little things like privacy and delicacy get in the way of his duty as a medic and a friend.

"That's..."

"Bon, I'm here as a friend," Watari said quietly, firmly. Listening to the quiet resolve in Watari's voice, Hisoka remembered the other world, and the Kyoto case. Despite countless heartbreaks during the case, he had come to regard both Tatsumi and Watari with much warmer affection. Kyoto incident, as painful as it was, had brought everyone closer to his heart. Even if they did not remember that, _he_ did. And one thing he knew was that those people that he loved and trusted were the same ones here.

"...I had a nightmare," Hisoka finally replied.

"About?" Watari prompted, obviously intent on getting an answer. So Hisoka settled for answering truthfully.

"Being killed."

"I see." Watari's voice was neither encouraging nor discouraging.

"I...don't like being touched after that dream," Hisoka admitted reluctantly.

"You never told anyone you had nightmares?" Watari remarked, his query for the reason unspoken but clear.

"Everyone has nightmares," Hisoka answered, sidestepping the real question. Watari, however, refused to be deterred.

"Yes, but if they're interfering with your rest, you should have told me, or someone."

Hisoka had no answer to that.

"I must remind you again, all of us here are your friends. I'm sorry that I have to remind you that, bon." Watari tone was mildly disapproving, but underneath was also hurt. Hisoka could sense it, shimmering just under the surface along with the warmth and the protectiveness.

"Sorry. But my dreams were never this bad before, and it bothered me today more than usual," Hisoka replied apologetically, aware of Watari's deep concern which belied the calm, even voice.

"Any ideas what brought on your particularly bad nightmare last night?" Watari inquired, the edge of professionalism slipping back into him.

"I don't know," Hisoka answered flatly. A brief silence, then someone cleared throat, and both turned to look at Tatsumi peering through the partially open door.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt, but you and Tsuzuki-san have a new case. If you're not feeling well, we can send someone else with him. Would you prefer that, Kurosaki-kun?" Tatsumi asked quietly, gentle consideration a warm backdrop against the usual coolness in his demeanor. The mixture of coolness and warmth was purely Tatsumi, familiar, and Hisoka felt his usual equilibrium return.

"I'll go," Hisoka answered. His personal problems were personal problems, and work was work. He was no child, and certainly could deal with both.

"Are you sure?" Tatsumi asked, little more coolness, and Hisoka was thankful for it. If the concerns from other co-workers were like lukewarm or warm heat, Tatsumi's was like cool water. It was refreshing.

"Yes," Hisoka answered curtly, but added in a softer tone, "I will be fine, really."

"Then, I will send Muraki-kun with you." Tatsumi announced, and Hisoka stared at the Enmacho's secretary. That was against the usual protocol, and Tatsumi of all people knew that. "Kurosaki-kun, he has great work records. He is very powerful and can summon four shikigami. You can trust him on the job. I'd rather have him back you up then sit here doing nothing when you're obviously not well," Tatsumi explained, all cool reason and perfect reasonableness.

Well, drat. Hisoka had almost forgotten that Muraki had been a formidable opponent in the other world. The younger version of Muraki was probably powerful too, even if not quite on the scale of his adult version.

"Okay, then," Hisoka capitulated. When Tatsumi made up his mind about anything, it was useless to try to convince him otherwise.

"We'll start briefing in ten minutes, at the conference room," Tatsumi said, preparing to leave.

"I'll be there," Hisoka replied, and Tatsumi nodded to him, before leaving. Hisoka slid down from the bed, sensing Watari's concerned gaze fixed on him. To his relief, Watari did not try to assist him like an invalid.

"You want something before you go?" Watari asked when Hisoka got on his feet.

"No, I never used to take meds before. I'll be all right," Hisoka said, making a mental note to tell Watari later that meds did funny things to his empathic ability.

"'K then. Be careful out there," Watari acquiesced, knowing he couldn't persuade Hisoka on this point.

"I will," Hisoka replied blithely, feeling like a chick fussed over by its mother hen. He was glad to find himself relatively steady on his feet, and made it to the conference room without trouble. Feeling more like himself after the brief respite, however short it was, Hisoka did not flinch visibly when he faced the mixed concerns that flooded him as soon as he entered the room. Tatsumi was waiting with Kazutaka, Tsuzuki, and Konoe-kachou, and when Watari joined them with 003 few minutes later, the briefing began.

It was a murder case as usual, in Kikuchi City, Kumamoto Prefecture. There had already been four victims, all teenage males. There seemed to be only one murderer, judging from the fact they were killed in the same way: strangled before being stabbed to death. The only other thing the victims had in common was that all of them were foreigners. Tatsumi read the details of the case, complete with picture slides. When the photograph of the victims appeared on the screen, Kazutaka tensed visibly, and Hisoka, sitting across the table, immediately felt strange mixture of emotions from him. There was compassion as Kazutaka stared at the victims, yet there was also fear, a very strong, consuming fear. Trying to ignore the unease coiling at the pit of his stomach, Hisoka mentally shook himself. He really could not afford to be distracted while on the job.

"...The murderer appears to have violated all of his victims before strangling them, and stabbing them to death. All the victims also have the kanji for 'darkness' carved into their skin," Tatsumi finished his explanation.

"Kanji for 'darkness'?" Kazutaka asked, his voice tight. Kazutaka's increasingly unsettled emotions were starting to prickle uncomfortably at Hisoka's consciousness. Frowning, Hisoka looked back at the pictures, and realized what was so unsettling about them.

The victims all vaguely resembled Kazutaka, with pale skin, and palest blonde hair that could be mistaken for platinum blonde under the moonlight.

He turned his attention back to Kazutaka, and noticed a white-knuckled hand clutched over his heart. The emotions were becoming stronger, pain and anger and hatred and strange anticipation, but most prominently terror and anxiety. Their intensity was becoming quite distracting.

"That's it for the briefing. Tsuzuki-san, Kurosaki-kun, Muraki-kun, please leave immediately for Kikuchi City, and start the investigation," Tatsumi announced, glancing at the three of them for acknowledgement.

"Let's go," Hisoka said quietly, getting up first. Tatsumi, Watari, and Konoe-kachou stared at him. Usually, it was Tsuzuki who jumped out of the seat first, with Hisoka calmly walking after him.

"Kurosaki-kun," Tatsumi's calm voice stopped Hisoka. "Are you sure you will be all right?"

Such simple words, but so much concern and meaning underneath. Hisoka looked back at Tatsumi-san, gratitude softening his features. "I will be fine, Tatsumi-san."

"All right. Be careful," Tatsumi said, signaling their dismissal, and the three of them left the office immediately. For the rest of the trip to earth, Hisoka avoided physical contact with Kazutaka or Tsuzuki, but especially Kazutaka. The stirred-up mixture of emotions was giving him a migraine, and Hisoka was determined to keep it from getting worse. He could ill afford anything less than his full attention on the investigation.

Kikuchi City was located in the northern part of Kumamoto Prefecture on Kyushu Island. It was a small city with population of twenty-eight thousand, rich with history and natural beauty. The beautiful scenery of the city made it difficult to believe such violent and gruesome murders were happening there. (1)

"Kazutaka," Tsuzuki called quietly, and Kazutaka turned to give him a mildly questioning look.

"Yes, Tsuzuki-san?" His smile was distracted and slightly strained.

"You seem distracted. Is something bothering you?" Tsuzuki asked, concern in his voice.

"No. I think I'm kind of nervous because I haven't had field assignments for a while," Kazutaka answered easily, but did not seem to be giving Tsuzuki his full attention.

"Just take it easy," Tsuzuki said good naturedly, and Kazutaka gave him a slightly warmer smile.

"I will. Ready, Hisoka-san?"

"Yes," Hisoka answered neutrally, hiding his internal strain. The day counted as A Very Bad Day even in his book, but he did not wish to cause Tsuzuki and Kazutaka unnecessary concern, especially not when they were about to start on a case.

It was difficult tracking down the victims' family and friends. They were all foreigners, and two of them had been tourists. Although they managed to meet most of those who had known the victims, none of them had been a witness to the actual murder, and the entire day of tracking down various people yielded no more information than they had in the beginning.

Frustrated, they headed towards the murder sites to see if they could find anything that the police had missed. Suddenly, Hisoka whirled around, looking back.

"Hisoka? What is it?" Tsuzuki asked, puzzled.

"It's nothing," Hisoka answered distractedly. 'Strange. It felt like someone was watching us.' Hisoka dismissed the idea with a shake of his head. As they walked away, occasionally talking to one another, a figure in shadows watched them with a cold smirk.

"Well, well, well... What do we have here? I didn't expect _him_ to be here... And that boy..." The voice trailed off into dark chuckles. "This is certainly getting more interesting."

* * *

After the murder sites similarly disappointed the hopes of getting any useful information, the three called it a night and retired to the hotel room Tatsumi had reserved for them. Tatsumi, as Hisoka had half expected, had gotten them a single room with only two beds. After a short discussion on Tatsumi and pathological parsimony, Tsuzuki took the couch, and Hisoka and Kazutaka the beds. While Tsuzuki took a shower, Hisoka stepped out to the balcony, mentally going over what they had on the case so far, and trying to will away the lingering headache. Kazutaka was in the room, busily typing away at the laptop. 

"Hisoka-san."

The shinigami jumped slightly, but managed not to squeak in surprise. Kazutaka's ability to sneak up on other people was by now legendary in Shokan Division; even Tatsumi had been surprised twice.

"Yes?" Hisoka prompted when Kazutaka did not speak again.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for bed? You need sleep, more than any of us," Kazutaka pointed out, concern plain in his voice.

"I will, soon. I want to take a shower before I go to sleep," Hisoka replied.

"Okay, then you can take one before me," Kazutaka offered good-naturedly.

"That's not necessary," Hisoka said automatically, not in the habit of accepting favors from other people.

"It is. You need your sleep," Kazutaka insisted.

"It's fine - "

"Stop being stubborn, and take the shower. When other people are trying to be nice, it's a courtesy to accept," Kazutaka said sharply, and Hisoka blinked, closing his mouth. A warm hand touched the back of his hand, and Hisoka looked down at Kazutaka's pale hand covering his. "It took me a while before I got used to Ukyou-chan or Oriya being nice to me. It took even longer to accept they had no ulterior motives, same with my co-workers. Other people can be surprisingly kind, Hisoka-san, if you just let them," Kazutaka said gently, and Hisoka swallowed, surprised how quickly Kazutaka saw through him. Was it because they had some similar experiences in the past, or was it just Kazutaka?

"All right," Hisoka acquiesced. Kazutaka smiled genuinely for the first time since the briefing, and Hisoka felt an answering tug on his own lips. "Are you finished with what you were doing, or do you need help?"

"Nearly finished. I just need to e-mail Gushoshin to check something for me. Excuse me," Kazutaka murmured.

"Sure," Hisoka replied, turning his gaze back to the night scene. The air was warmer, and filled with new vitality of spring. He closed his eyes, enjoying the warm breeze caressing his skin.

A sharp jerk went through his body, and Hisoka's green eyes widened, the surprise and the pain canceling each other into a blank state of shock for a few seconds, before the fierce burn of the pain won out and intensified. Hisoka clutched the railing, fighting for consciousness. When the pain receded slightly, he was gasping harshly, trying to regain his breath. The dull throb of his body was sickeningly familiar, persistent, and he pulled his sleeves up with trembling hands.

The curse marks were burning again.

A dark chuckle caught his attention, and he looked around, trying to find the source of the sound. Five stories down, a man stood under a nearby tree, his hair bleached pale golden in the moonlight. The man was looking up, staring at him, cold amusement in his amber eyes. Intense pain raced through his body like lightening, and images flooded Hisoka's mind, numerous and far too fleeting for him to grasp firmly. Pressing a hand against his temple, Hisoka gritted his teeth against the pain lancing through his head, and looked down again. The man was still staring at him, the cold smile widening, with an unspoken command clear in his amber eyes. (2)

_Come._

"...I'll be right back," Hisoka said, walking out of the door.

"Hisoka-san?" Kazutaka's surprised voice floated after him, but the door had already closed. Hisoka broke into a run, not caring whether he collided into other patrons of the hotel. His heart was pounding in his ears, as he recalled how he had found out Muraki was his murderer in the alternate world, and he trembled with both fear and anticipation. Wasn't it possible that this man had something to do with how he died in this world?

Racing down the stairs, Hisoka briefly thought about going back to tell Kazutaka or Tsuzuki, but decided otherwise. Despite his confidence in his friend, he did not want Kazutaka directly involved with this, especially if he was right about this man. And Tsuzuki...

He did not want Tsuzuki to know, not when the knowledge would only burden him. Besides, Hisoka was no longer the helpless boy he used to be in life. He was now a shinigami, who had come face to face with numerous dangers and powerful demons, and survived. Whoever was his killer couldn't possibly be as powerful as the adult Muraki. Muraki was always the exception, not the rule. How often did one encounter a psychotic, murdering doctor with kick-ass powers, anyway?

As he neared the tree, where the man had standing only minutes ago, he found no trace of him. The streets were dark and empty, and Hisoka looked around, ready to fly if necessary to cover more ground.

He took few more steps, and strong arms suddenly grabbed him from behind, a hand clasping over his mouth before he could even think to scream.

"I'm glad you came, bouya," a low, amused voice whispered in his ear, and Hisoka's eyes widened impossibly. (3) The presence behind him was dark and cold and searing, so deep and twisted that he could not even begin to see the bottom. This person reminded him of...

Muraki.

"Pretty boys like you shouldn't be wandering around at night, all alone."

The green eyes turned blank, wide open but unseeing, and Hisoka body went limp in the strong arms around him. A chuckle sent warm breath of air over the boy's face. The last thing Hisoka remembered before his consciousness left him was the blood-red full moon high in the sky.

Back in the hotel, Kazutaka waited for good fifteen minutes, but Hisoka did not return, and Kazutaka started to get worried. They had been sent here to investigate a _murder_ case, for crying out loud! Okay, so the shinigami were already dead, and not in danger of being murdered, but that did not mean Hisoka should be wandering around at night by himself. There could be any number of weirdoes out at night, and... Catching himself here, Kazutaka mentally kicked himself. Hisoka was not exactly helpless, and besides, why _was_ he so worried? He didn't know since when, but these days, his attention seemed to invariably settle on Hisoka. At first, he had assumed it was because he could not understand Hisoka, but now, even after knowing the beautiful shinigami's secrets, his fascination had only intensified. Even now, thinking of Hisoka gave him a strange, warm feeling spreading from his insides, warming him like the golden afternoon sunlight. Come to think of it, Hisoka's dark blond hair always did remind him of rich afternoon sunlight...

His train of thoughts was interrupted as Tsuzuki finally emerged from the bathroom, toweling his hair dry.

"Where is Hisoka?" Tsuzuki asked, looking around the room.

"He went out fifteen minutes ago. Tsuzuki-san, I think I should go and see where he has gone. Or...do you want to go by yourself?" The younger shinigami added hesitantly, not wanting to make Tsuzuki-san feel left out.

Tsuzuki smiled at the kind suggestions. Kazutaka really was considerate. "We'll go together. I feel like getting some fresh air, anyway."

The two shinigami headed out, but Hisoka was nowhere to be found. They both knew that their youngest companion liked to stroll around, so they set out from the hotel, looking for the wayward shinigami. It was late, and the streets were dark. Of all the times to pick for a nightly stroll...

Kazutaka was not paying much attention to his feet as he was searching for Hisoka, and he tripped and fell down. "Ow..." Kazutaka ruefully rubbed his knee, wincing.

"Are you all right?" Tsuzuki asked, quickly walking over to him.

"Yes, I just tripped," Kazutaka answered, slightly embarrassed.

Tsuzuki smiled fondly. "Hisoka has bad night vision, too. One time, when we went to the Hokkaido and ended up searching for Queen Beatrice - she's the queen of winter - he would not admit it, but he was very reluctant to walk around at night." Tsuzuki saw a slight frown on Kazutaka's face, and paused before asking, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. The ground is wet," Kazutaka answered. That moment, the full moon emerged from behind the clouds, illuminating the ground.

"Kazutaka..." Tsuzuki called quietly.

"Tsuzuki-san?" Kazutaka inquired, puzzled. Tsuzuki crouched down and reached out to touch the wet ground. As he withdrew his hand, Kazutaka saw the distinct red smeared on Tsuzuki-san's fingers, accompanied by a metallic scent.

Blood.

He was sitting in a small puddle of blood.

The two looked at each other, then in the next instant sprang to their feet. The blood on the ground formed a trail, and without a second thought, both of them broke into a run, following it. This was their first lead since they left Meifuu. Could they have chanced upon yet another murder?

After a good twenty minutes, they were quite out of breath, but found themselves standing before a promising old mansion, where the blood trail ended. Whether or not they had been too late to prevent the fifth murder weighed heavily on both of their minds as they prepared to enter the building. Tsuzuki took a step forward resolutely. "Let's go."

"What about Hisoka-san?" Kazutaka asked.

Tsuzuki paused as he remembered. In their hunt for the murderer, he had forgotten that they had originally set out to look for Hisoka. They had no way of knowing whether Hisoka was still out walking, or already back at the hotel, wondering where the other two had gone. But they did not have time to go back and check.

"I'll send out a messenger. Hisoka saw it before, so he should recognize it," Tsuzuki decided, taking out an ofuda, and transforming it into a white bird. (4) The bird flew up straight, and the two started towards the building, approaching cautiously but quickly. They were stopped, however, when the bird circled around them, hovering in their way.

"What's the matter with it?" Kazutaka asked. He knew more than enough about shikigami and spells to know that this was not the normal behavior for a messenger.

"...I sent it to find Hisoka," Tsuzuki answered.

"So, why is it staying here?" Kazutaka asked, beginning to dread the answer.

"Because...Hisoka is here," Tsuzuki answered, his voice deceptively quiet. "Let's go."

Swallowing, Kazutaka followed, as cold fear stabbed his heart viciously. Ever since the briefing, he had an idea who the killer might be, and a good guess as to what the killer was capable of doing. What if he had been right? More importantly, what if Hisoka was now in the murderer's clutches? Oh, why had he not confided his suspicion to the others? His indecision might have cost Hisoka much more than it should. Shuddering with guilt and anxiety, he followed Tsuzuki into the mansion.

"We'll split up. We can cover more grounds that way. You can summon shikigami, correct?" Tsuzuki asked, his serious face so different from his usual expression that Kazutaka swallowed before answering.

"I can summon up to four."

"Good. Keep them handy. Ready?" Tsuzuki was all business, cool and confident. Kazutaka felt his anxiety ease, slipping into his professional mood.

"Yes. Good luck."

"You too. Be careful," Tsuzuki said softly before walking away, barely a footfall betraying his presence. Kazutaka, feeling his skin tingle with heady mixture of fear, worry, and anticipation, cautiously walked down the corridor in the opposite direction. Under the pale moonlight, Kazutaka saw a fresher trail of blood, and cried out without thinking.

"Tsuzuki-san!"

He immediately regretted calling out, but the sound of heavy footfalls nearby made him forget his mistake. The noise was coming from straight ahead, where the trail was leading, and he raced down the corridor until he came to a door. Tense with anticipation, he drew out several ofuda and kicked the door open. The sight that greeted Kazutaka made him cry out again.

"Hisoka-san!"

Hisoka stood bound to a bed standing vertically on its foot, with his arms fastened above him with thin, black wires. Without a second thought, he ran towards the young shinigami, his attention only on the unconscious Hisoka.

"Hisoka-san! Wake up!" His hands frantically worked to free Hisoka from the wires, and Kazutaka swore as the glossy wires cut into his fingers. Whatever they were, the wires were obviously much stronger than they looked.

Wait. He did know what the wires were. He had heard about it before.

A chill ran down his spine as he realized the black, glossy threads were strands of women's hair, strengthened with an old spell, virtually unbreakable. (5) The only way to free the victim was to gently untangle the wires, but it was a long and difficult process, because the wires were so thin, and easily cut into skin. Many people, frightened or frustrated, not understanding the power of the wires, would simply pull violently against them, losing their limbs or heads in the process. Carefully, he managed to untangle them, gaining a fair number of cuts, and gently caught the slight, bloodied body into his arms. Once he lowered Hisoka to the floor, Kazutaka checked the vital signs and sighed in relief. Other than numerous small cuts, whatever major wounds that left the bloody trail had already healed. Hisoka's breathing was regular and steady, probably just unconscious from the blood loss.

Footsteps sounded behind him, and Kazutaka cursed himself for his carelessness. He was generally much more careful, but he had been so distracted by the sight of Hisoka that he had forgotten that the killer might be close. Kazutaka turned, and felt his limbs going numb with icy fear, nearly losing his grip on Hisoka.

"Why, what a pleasant surprise, Kazutaka," the man said pleasantly, amber eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"You..." Kazutaka whispered, hands clutching Hisoka convulsively.

"I see you've met my puppet," the blond killer gestured to Hisoka. Snapping out of his paralysis, Kazutaka glared at him.

"So you were the one who did that to him."

"I had to occupy my time somehow, after you died," the man replied with a slight shrug, and Kazutaka felt his anger turn cold, becoming bitter hatred.

"...So you murdered a thirteen-year-old child," Kazutaka said flatly.

"I did more than just killing him, but yes. Isn't my little toy beautiful? I'm sure you would like to know how delightful his sweet body is." The voice was sickening in its mocking sweetness.

"Shut up," Kazutaka snapped. His voice was rising in volume and pitch, but he did not care. He had to get Hisoka out of here. Now.

"Is he your little lover? You seemed quite fond of him."

"Shut _UP_!" Kazutaka screamed, a light erupting from his body. The other man looked momentarily taken aback.

"I see you've picked up few tricks since your death. Impressive."

Not deigning to respond, Kazutaka summoned one of his shikigami, a white winged dragon.

"Well, well, well, look who's been studying. I really am impressed, Kazutaka. Too bad it didn't serve you before you died, hmm?"

"Fire!" Kazutaka commanded, shifting his hold on Hisoka to use his hand more effectively. The white dragon obeyed readily, breathing fire on the smug killer. After the fire subsided, however, Kazutaka's eyes widened in surprise as the murderer emerged unharmed.

"You see, you were not the only one who's been busy."

"How did you...?" Kazutaka trailed off, aghast. His dragon's flames could kill minor demons easily, let alone humans.

"See, this just proves my point, my Kazutaka-chan. You use the same kind of summoning spells that I use. I was right, wasn't I? You are lucky I killed you when I did. Who knows, had you lived, it might have been you that raped and murdered your precious boy that night."

"SHUT UP!" Again light flashed brightly as Kazutaka summoned two more shikigami. Jointly, they attacked, but when the resulting debris had cleared, the killer was quite untouched, smirking at Kazutaka arrogantly.

"Give it up. You will never win. Not against me."

"Kazutaka! Hisoka!" Tsuzuki's voice rang out from just outside the door.

"Unfortunate, but it seems we have company," the man drawled, "Take care of my little doll for me, Kazutaka? He screams quite deliciously when you take him. Of course, you might know that already."

Kazutaka was so enraged that he could not see straight, let alone form a coherent answer. The door was blasted away as Tsuzuki rushed into the room with Byakko in tow. The killer simply smirked at Tsuzuki, and sent a burst of power towards the two boys.

"Watch out!" Tsuzuki screamed. The attack was too sudden, and Kazutaka knew he did not have time to cast a defensive shield. Instinctively, he threw himself on the ground, shielding Hisoka with his own body. Then the explosion of power hit them.

"HISOKA! KAZUTAKA!"

**END OF PART THREE**

A/N:

(1) Kikuchi City is under Kyushu, Hisoka and Tsuzuki's district. This information was taken almost verbatim from a website: _Regions and Cities_, part of **Japan Information Network** (JIN), ( www . city . kikuchi . kumamoto . jp / foreign / english / index . html ).

(2) Those who have guessed the identity of the killer might object to my choice for the color of his eyes and hair, which is not necessarily supported by the canon. I deliberately chose them for the purpose of this fanfiction, however, since he is meant to be a sort of antithesis or a shadow/reflection of Muraki. Please forbear kicking my rear end, dear fellow canon-obsessed.

(3) "Bouya" is a diminutive of "boy." Muraki in canon calls Hisoka this, as does Tsuzuki when they first meet. Hisoka rather hates being called this for obvious reasons.

(4) An ofuda is a rectangular paper charm. Tsuzuki uses it to create shields (or kekkai), to attack, and to banish ghosts and demons. For this particular use of ofuda, please see the episode three of the anime.

(5) Some of you might be interested to know that in Kyoto, there is a shrine called Honganji (or Hongwanji) where a rope made out of women's hair was actually used. For more information about Honganji, please visit: ( www . orientalarchitecture . com / kyoto / higashiindex . htm ), and ( www . jref . com / practical / nishi (underline) higashi (underline) honganji . shtml ).


	5. Part Four: Passage to Eden

**SAKURAN**

_by Shiraume_

**PART FOUR: Passage to Eden**

A hand gently landed on his shoulder, and Hisoka looked up at Tsuzuki's worried face.

"You should be resting, Hisoka." Hisoka said nothing. Tsuzuki sighed.

"...I didn't apologize," Hisoka said suddenly.

"What?"

"Before...before we left for this case... He came looking for me, and I..."

"Before you passed out, you mean?" Tsuzuki asked gently. Hisoka nodded

"It was never his fault. I knew that. Tsuzuki..." Hisoka's voice wavered. Tsuzuki was surprised to find Hisoka's shoulders shaking under his hand, and hastily wrapped his arms around Hisoka.

"Hisoka...it's okay."

Safely ensconced in his partner's arms, Hisoka let his tears fall. Saki had been quite happy to regale him with the full story about _that night_, from five years ago, replete with excruciating details.

_That night, you looked so much like my Kazutaka under those blossoming sakura..._

Even if Saki had never gotten as far as physically violating him...Kazutaka was as much a victim as Hisoka.

"Hisoka..." Kazutaka's voice was soft and raspy. Kazutaka's hand, almost as pale as the sheet, moved to touch Hisoka's hand lightly. "Why are you crying?"

Gentle. The white hand was so gentle and warm. As Kazutaka brushes his tears away, Hisoka closed his eyes, basking in the warm emotions that spread from that touch. Such exquisite mixture of relief, concern, and purest affection...he could not remember ever having felt such emotion from anyone. Lost in the warmth of that touch, he did not notice Tsuzuki slowly letting him go, and standing.

"I think I can leave the two of you now. Make sure you both get rest, okay?" Hisoka merely nodded distractedly, and Kazutaka offered a tired smile. Without another word, Tsuzuki strode out of the room, closing the door quietly.

Well. That put the final stamp on the matter.

Hisoka had refused to leave Kazutaka's bedside since he woke up. And Tsuzuki sensed that there was much more than simple gratitude or guilt behind Hisoka's action. During the two years of partnership, Tsuzuki _had_ developed some tentative expectations of further development in their relationship, even though Hisoka had given him very little encouragements, if any. Then Kazutaka walked into their lives, and whatever that could have been between Hisoka and Tsuzuki had been doomed the moment when Tsuzuki saw Hisoka lose his immaculate composure for the first time. (1) Before he even realized, Kazutaka had already shattered the icy walls that surrounded Hisoka that he himself had not even finished measuring.

Tsuzuki Asato was no fool. He had known that Kazutaka was slowly but inevitably falling in love with his beautiful Hisoka. Who wouldn't? Even with his icy demeanor, there was still warmth and fragile trust left within Hisoka, blending purity and innocence with bitterness and maturity. The resulting paradox was simply irresistible. Like his name, Hisoka's heart was a secret, one that was no longer his to unlock.

With a final glance towards the closed door, Tsuzuki turned around, and walked away.

* * *

Hisoka could not remember feeling more content as he sat watching Kazutaka sleep, still holding onto his hand tightly. Hisoka thought he knew peace for the first time in his life, knew the beauty of the pale moonlight, and the serenity of the still night. He knew, because he was no longer alone in the dark.

A moan pulled his thoughts back to his surroundings, and Hisoka drew closer, observing Kazutaka with concern. Kazutaka's face was taut with tension, and the knuckles of his hands turning white. Sudden onslaught of emotions caught him off guard, and Hisoka had no time to pull away before he was pulled into Kazutaka's dream, into the myriad of emotions and memories. Helpless, he sank deeper into Kazutaka's consciousness, futilely closing his eyes against the memories, knowing he would still see, would still hear.

_...my prized doll..._

_You would have...worse than I am..._

_...devil's child..._

_...what a disappointment...not enough..._

Frantically, he pulled against the tight grip, fighting back the foreign memories and emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

_Overload –_

_...You are MINE!_

The now-familiar voice of his murderer roared in his ears just as he finally managed to pull his hand away, severing the physical contact and the mental link between himself and Kazutaka. Falling back, even before his body hit the floor, Hisoka was already unconscious, lost in his own nightmare, dreaming. (2)

Of _that night_.

The memories were more vivid, real, and he knew without doubt that these memories he relived in his dreams now were the true ones in this world. The hair of his attacker was darker, golden, and the eyes were amber, glinting in the moonlight. The hands were colder, more bruising in their force.

...and...

"Hisoka?"

...it was not Muraki.

Hisoka opened his eyes, and immediately closed them against the harsh sunlight. More cautiously, Hisoka opened his eyes again, and found Kazutaka looking at him worriedly.

"I woke up in the middle of the night, and found you passed out on the floor. Again." Kazutaka's voice was laced with disapproval and worry, and Hisoka sat up wearily. His body was still throbbing, as it always did after that particular dream. "I called Watari-san to put you in bed after I found you, but I was really worried. What happened to you?" Kazutaka asked gently.

"...It's nothing."

"Hisoka-san, I hope you don't honestly think I'd believe you." Kazutaka's voice was firm, and after a moment, Hisoka sighed inwardly.

"You were having a nightmare," Hisoka began, and at Kazutaka's nod, continued. "I was pulled into it briefly, and passed out from the resulting overload."

"Oh." Kazutaka's guilt reared up again, and Hisoka winced; he was _really_ not ready to deal with it this early in the morning. "It's because you were holding my hand as I was sleeping, isn't it?"

Hisoka did not contradict him, opting to change the subject – a tact he picked up from Tsuzuki which worked surprisingly well at times. "Were you watching me sleep?" Kazutaka looked completely blank for a moment, then blushed scarlet. It was rather endearing, and Hisoka smiled in spite of himself.

"I couldn't go back to sleep after waking up," Kazutaka mumbled in embarrassment. Hisoka's smile waned, but for once not because of his own nightmare.

"I know the feeling," he murmured gently, hand moving automatically to seek Kazutaka's.

"Yeah, you would know. You experienced it first-hand."

"Kazutaka-san...what happened between you and Saki...that wasn't your fault."

"So, you saw it." The usually warm voice was flat and devoid of life. Kazutaka's hospital gown was loose, and Hisoka could see, just an inch or so below Kazutaka's left collarbone, an artfully carved character of "darkness," like blood on the pale skin.Kazukata's family servant had interrupted Saki's fun sooner than he probably had liked, but Saki had still had time to leave his mark on Kazutaka, identical to the one he left to all of his subsequent victims.

_You're the one who tempted me in the first place, dear brother..._

"Kazutaka-san..."

_You really wanted this, didn't you?_

"Kazutaka-san!"

_Only what you asked for, sweet Kazutaka. Only what you deserve._

"Kazutaka!"

Kazuaka's wide, unseeing eyes flickered to Hisoka's. Hisoka's both hands were on his shoulders, and a detached part of him thought it must be very painful for the empath to do that while his emotions were in a complete chaos.

"You're here now. They are only shadows of the past. Don't let them control you."

Kazutaka felt his head clear, a little, and looked at Hisoka, who gave him a small nod. With a soft sigh, Kazutaka laid his head on Hisoka's shoulder, feeling the warmth of Hisoka's hand rubbing his back. Hisoka allowed himself a small smile as he held Kazutaka, giving support, giving warmth. The warmth Kazutaka gave him so much, so often... Hisoka did not let go until Kazutaka fell asleep.

Even after Kazutaka was soundly asleep, Hisoka did not let go.

* * *

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I just want to be outside for a little while."

"Watari-san will kill you when he finds out."

"You mean, _if_ he finds out."

"You..."

"And he won't."

"Really."

"What, are you going to tattle on me?"

"Maybe," Hisoka glared, but Kazutaka cheerfully ignored him, plopping down underneath a sakura tree in full bloom.

"It's not like I ran away to Earth or something. Watari-san will deal," Kazutaka said after two full minutes of unmitigated glaring.

"You're not well enough to." Hisoka barely resisted adding, 'idiot.' "I see Tsuzuki has been a bad influence on you." Kazutaka merely laughed, and Hisoka shook his head. "Come on. Get up."

"Can't. I'm injured, remember?"

"You walked all the way here," Hisoka said pointedly.

Kazutaka's answer was as ready as ever. "You helped, remember? See, you're already my accomplice."

Hisoka gave a long-suffering sigh. Kazutaka smiled deviously, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Fine, fine. Here, help me up," he said petulantly, extending a hand. When Hisoka grabbed his hand, he gave a sharp pull, simultaneously knocking Hisoka's feet from under him. With a squeak of surprise, Hisoka tumbled to the ground.

Right on top of Kazutaka.

"Why you – "

Laughter rang out again, and Hisoka struggled to get up, but Kazutaka had managed to grab both of his wrists. The sakura petals rained down as they wrestled, shaken loose after someone's foot kicked the tree trunk, hard. Hisoka immediately stopped moving when he heard a sharp gasp of pain.

"Oh! I'm sorry. Are you all right?" Hisoka tried to scramble off, but Kazutaka held him fast, keeping him still. It was then Hisoka realized that their faces were only inches apart, and their bodies pressed from chest to thighs. He flushed scarlet, his breath leaving his lips in a surprised gasp. Kazutaka's eyes were warm, and an emotion much stronger than friendly affection suddenly tugged on Hisoka's heart, growing hotter and stronger, spreading through the physical contact.

"I'm all right," Kazutaka whispered, his eyes locked on Hisoka's. He raised his head until Hisoka could feel their breaths mingling.

His heart pounding in his chest, Hisoka stayed still as Kazutaka drew closer, his face blurring out of focus. Then he felt a tentative brush of lips against his, and let out the breath he had not known he was holding. The mouth under his parted slightly, and suddenly the kiss changed, heat flaring from the contact.

Kazutaka did not know what possessed him to suddenly initiate this, but Hisoka was not pulling away, so he persisted, desperate to feel more. When Hisoka still showed no sign of pulling away, he slowly released Hisoka's wrists and wrapped his arms around Hisoka instead. Hisoka's hands were tangled in Kazutaka's hair, although neither of them was quite sure how they had gotten there.

When they finally broke apart, they were both panting and flushed, each disbelieving that the other had just allowed the kiss. Feeling Kazutaka's heartbeat race against his own, Hisoka felt a surge of emotion inside him, the same emotion that had thrilled through him when he threw his arms around Tsuzuki, heedless of Touda's scorching flame, in another life, another world.

That same emotion burned through him now, burning between them.

Hisoka leaned down to brush a soft kiss against Kazutaka's lips, then shifted to lie on the ground, Kazutaka's arms still wrapped around him. He closed his eyes, his head on Kazutaka's shoulder, his hand resting lightly over Kazutaka's heart, feeling Kazutaka's hand moving over his shoulder and back. Safe in warmth, the sakura blossoms were no longer hateful, but beautiful, bringing him a sense of peace, not nightmares. For this one moment, the world was perfect, and Hisoka was completely and utterly happy.

* * *

Ten days after Kazutaka was put in the infirmary, Watari finally declared that he could leave. It had been a week since Kazutaka and Hisoka had shared their first kiss under the rain of sakura. It had been two days since a very flustered Tatsumi caught the two of them kissing (and doing a bit more than kissing) in the infirmary. Hisoka and Tsuzuki escorted the protesting Kazutaka home, and now, Hisoka was preparing tea for both of them; Tsuzuki had left right away, despite invitation from Kazutaka to stay for tea. The teakettle whistled and Hisoka reached over, but faltered when he suddenly felt warm lips against his nape.

"The water is ready," Hisoka murmured, turning off the stove. He could feel a smile against his neck.

"It can wait."

Hisoka's breathing quickened as the gentle arms wound around him and pulled him back into the warm body behind his. Kazutaka kissed the side of his neck, then his jaw, and he closed his eyes with a soft hum, turning around to catch Kazutaka's mouth with his own. A warm hand brushed against his nipple through the thin shirt, and Hisoka moaned softly into the kiss.

"Ah – " Kazutaka opened his eyes in surprise when Hisoka suddenly broke the kiss with a strangled cry.

"Hisoka?" Hisoka had his arms wrapped around himself, shaking. Startled, Kazutaka instinctively reached out, but thought better of it. "Hisoka, what is it? Did I hurt you?" The stab of fear eased when Hisoka shook his head, but it was short-lived. Hisoka was holding himself, trembling as if with pain.

"The marks..." Hisoka whispered, voice nearly inaudible. After a few heartbeat, Hisoka felt the pain let up slightly and continued. "They're burning." Kazutaka gasped when Hisoka unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the marks of the curse burning scarlet.

"What..."

"It means _he_ is calling." Hisoka's voice was flat. There was no question as to who was calling. But Hisoka did not seem afraid.

"What do you want to do?" Kazutaka questioned, although he thought he knew the answer already.

"We have to stop him," Hisoka answered, slowly but firmly. "We can't let him go on."

Kazutaka was silent for a moment. "Do you think we can?"

"I know Tatsumi-san and Tsuzuki have been working on the case. But I want us to be the ones to do this, Kazutaka."

"He's very powerful," Kazutaka pointed out, closing his eyes. He could not bear the thought of facing his brother again, or more importantly, the possibility of losing Hisoka.

Hisoka's expression was understanding, but resolved. "If we don't, we will never be free of him." Hisoka paused, and added softly, "_I_ will never be free of him." Kazutaka just looked at him, pained.

"I don't ever want to lose you, Hisoka," Kazutaka finally whispered.

"You won't." Hisoka's voice was sure, determined. In a softer tone, he added, "You won't, Kazutaka, because I..."

A finger on his lips stopped Hisoka's words, and Kazutaka replaced the finger with his lips, kissing Hisoka chastely. When Kazutaka pulled back slightly, Hisoka saw the suspicious glimmer of wetness in the softened sliver eyes. "Tell me after we defeat him," Kazutaka whispered to him.

Hisoka whispered back just as softly, with all his heart. "I will."

**END OF PART FOUR**

A/N:

(1) Do recall that any and all occasions of Hisoka showing his less composed, human side to Tsuzuki have been erased at this point; the Nagasaki incident, Queen Camellia incident, and Kyoto incident have not happened in this reality.

(2) ...This scene has no scientific validity whatsoever. My dorky heart compels me to state this clearly.


	6. Part Five: Descent

**SAKURAN**

_by Shiraume_

**PART FIVE: Descent**

"They left already?" Kazutaka and Hisoka chorused, dismayed.

Watari's expression was unexpectedly stern. "That's what I said. And before you even ask, the answer is NO. Don't even think about setting a foot outside Enmacho, let alone leaving Meifu to face that lunatic."

"But...!" Kazutaka began to protest, only to be cut short by Watari.

"NO. Konoe-kachou has expressly forbidden the two of you from getting involved. The case is transferred to Tatsumi and Tsuzuki. End of discussion."

"Watari-san–"

"_Period._"

Defeated, the two shinigami left. Tatsumi and Tsuzuki had left scarcely an hour ago (that was probably why Tsuzuki left early before). Inexplicably, the fact his own partner kept this from him hurt Hisoka, but he was more concerned for Tsuzuki's safety. Although they had faith in Tatsumi and Tsuzuki's abilities, neither could keep the anxiety at bay.

"Let's go."

Hisoka's eyes widened. Kazutaka could not possibly mean...?

"They don't know what Saki is capable of, Hisoka. They might be walking into a trap. We have to warn them." Kazutaka's eyes were determined.

After looking at Kazutaka's serious expression, Hisoka nodded in assent. "All right. Let's go."

In an instant both shinigami were on Earth, back in the dilapidated building where they had last seen Saki. Hisoka suddenly froze with a sharp intake of breath, feeling the marks on his skin burn.

"Hisoka? Are you all right?"

"It's Saki," Hisoka managed. "He's doing something."

"Hisoka..." The worry in Kazutaka's voice was palpable, and gave Hisoka just enough strength to continue; he tugged on Kazutaka's hand, leading them towards where he could feel Saki's aura.

"We're near. I can feel him."

Again, Kazutaka felt a twinge of fear, but not for himself. "Hisoka...maybe you shouldn't..." he began, but Hisoka shook his head adamantly.

"We're doing this together. I'm not letting you face him alone."

Slowly, Kazutaka took the other's hand in his and brushed a reverent kiss on the knuckles. "You are the bravest person I've known."

"How sweet."

There was a cruel amusement in that cool tone, and the two jumped. Saki stood barely twenty feet away from them, yet neither had noticed him. Kazutaka savagely suppressed a shiver running through his spine, knowing Hisoka would feel every ounce of his fear. In the years of his afterlife in safety, he had almost forgotten how much his brother could affect him, but now... Now, the terror raged within him, making him feel as helpless as he did on the day he died, sixteen years ago.

"Oh, I don't mind you touching my toys, Kazutaka," Saki drawled. "But really, you should have asked before taking."

A wave of anger surged within Kazutaka, and Hisoka flinched. Kazutaka, usually so collected and in control, was absolutely unpredictable when it came to his brother, and Hisoka could not help worrying; strong emotional responses tended to lead one right into the opponent's hand. He knew this from experience.

Kazutaka swallowed, and managed to reply in even voice. "Hisoka isn't your anything. And I'm here to make sure you will never harm another innocent again."

Saki's answer was an amused chuckle. "Apparently, so were your colleagues. What were their names, Tatsumi-san and Tsuzuki-san?"

The two shinigami froze. Saki smiled maliciously at their shock. "One with glasses, the other with most beautiful purple eyes, yes?"

"What did you do to them?" Hisoka heard himself ask, but flinched back when Saki's amber eyes turned to him, as if Saki had touched him physically.

"Nothing much. I merely made them...see the light."

"Hisoka!" Kazutaka cried out in warning, and Hisoka was knocked off his feet as Saki's spell slammed into the defensive shield Kazutaka cast only split second before the impact. Kazutaka's brows were knitted in deep concentration as he struggled to keep up the hastily cast shield, searching for an opening in Saki's offensive. His heart hammering within his chest, Hisoka watched. He could sense the power emanating from Saki, and a chill ran down his spine as he realized that Saki might be the most powerful opponent they had yet to face. And worse, he could feel something blocking Kazutaka from being able to use his full power, some internal that had to do with Saki.

Hisoka sprang back to his feet, gathering his own reserve of power. "Kazutaka!"

"Don't, Hisoka! You know our powers aren't compatible enough for you to help me!" Kazutaka said sharply without even looking back. Unlike Tsuzuki, whose power was so uncannily in sync with Hisoka, Kazutaka's power did not match Hisoka's, and any attempt on Hisoka's part to help would more than likely backfire. Saki smirked, observing the exchange with an air of boredom. He knew, Kazutaka thought to himself with a sinking heart. Saki knew Kazutaka could not defeat him. He was merely toying with his younger brother, waiting until Kazutaka wore himself out. Saki doubtlessly had Hisoka covered as well.

Kazutaka bit his lip. Soon his shield would crumble, and he would not be able to neutralize the aftershock. Perhaps it would even be enough to...enough to...

"Give up, Kazutaka." Saki's voice was almost tender, mockingly affectionate. "You can't protect him. You are just like me, a descendant of the darkness."

"Never!" Kazutaka shouted, bracing himself to physically shield Hisoka, even if the shockwave killed him.

Suddenly, the shadow beneath Saki's feet moved, and knocked him off his feet, breaking his spell. Eyes wide, Kazutaka watched Tatsumi wield the shadows with frightening efficiency, trapping Saki in the cold embrace of the shadows. The Enmacho secretary seemed relatively unharmed, if a bit bloody. Tsuzuki, on the other hand, was kneeling behind him, rocking slightly with his eyes unfocused. Before Kazutaka could notice anything else, the shadows engulfed all four of them, and they were back in Meifu.

"Are you two all right?" Tatsumi asked, and Kazutaka could have laughed in relief.

"We're fine. But what happened to Tsuzuki-san?" Hisoka was already on his knees, gently taking Tsuzuki's shoulders in his hands and murmuring to him softly.

"I'm not really sure, Muraki-kun. Shidou Saki did something with a strange light when we confronted him, and Tsuzuki-san has been like that since. I managed to get us there until I was certain Tsuzuki-san is all right." Tatsumi added in a quieter tone, "I did not anticipate he would be so powerful."

"I could have told you that," Kazutaka said wryly. Tatsumi nodded, less agitated now and more himself.

"So I've noticed. But, I recall that the two of you were taken off this case."

Kazutaka shook his head. "Tatsumi-san, this is something that Hisoka and I have to do for ourselves."

A fearful whisper interrupted the two. "Hisoka...?"

"I'm here, Tsuzuki," Hisoka answered, his voice calm and soothing.

"So much blood...everyone's dead...because of me..."

Hisoka remembered how Saagatanasu had once trapped Tsuzuki within his memories. Could Saki have done something similar? "Tsuzuki, it's all right. Can you hear me?" It took Tsuzuki several minutes, but he nodded. "Then concentrate on me. It's all right. Everything will be fine."

With a sob, Tsuzuki wrapped his arms around his partner, shaking. With uncharacteristic gentleness, Hisoka held him close, stroking the midnight black hair until Tsuzuki fell asleep. After exchanging a look, Kazutaka and Tatsumi left the two of them alone and stepped outside the infirmary.

"I wouldn't have thought it was possible for a human to do this," Tatsumi remarked, closing the door shut behind them.

"Has anything like this happened before?" Kazutaka asked curiously.

"Once. A very high-ranking demon was able to possess and bind Tsuzuki-san from within. The results were quite impressive." Tatsumi's tone made it clear just how impressive, and Kazutaka nodded, feeling a stab of guilt.

"I'm sorry. I should have warned you about Saki sooner."

Tatsumi softened at this. "You couldn't have known. Let's trust Kurosaki-kun to help Tsuzuki-san. Our immediate problem still lies with Shidou Saki. He must have some kind of a weakness."

"I don't know if he does. Except..." Kazutaka's voice hardened. "He's obsessed with me."

Tatsumi was silent for a moment. "Muraki-kun, surely you're not suggesting...?"

"The only other choice is Hisoka. And I would never allow that."

"Muraki-kun, this is unacceptable. The risk is too great –"

"If we don't do something _now_, he will kill even more innocents to get to me," Kazutaka argued, "and I can't let that happen. If we can somehow lure him into a place where his power can be bound, I might be able to defeat him."

Looking at the determined set of silver eyes, Tatsumi sighed. "If I said no, you'd still go ahead and do it anyway, wouldn't you?"

Kazutaka did not hesitate. "Yes."

"Muraki-kun."

"It has to be me. I couldn't stop him in life. I _will_ stop him in death." Kazutaka gave Tatsumi a strained but sincere smile.

Finally, Tatsumi nodded. "Are you going to tell Kurosaki-kun what you're planning?"

"Yes," Kazutaka answered after a brief consideration. "He'd want to come with me either way. Better that he's forewarned."

"Do you love him?" The question was quiet. Kazutaka returned the calm blue gaze levelly.

"Yes."

Tatsumi's eyes gentled with a small smile. "Then, I wish both of you the best." Tatsumi turned and added over his shoulder, "I'll go obtain permission from Konoe-kachou. I shouldn't be long."

"Thank you, Tatsumi-san."

With a nod, Tatsumi walked away, leaving Kazutaka to himself. Kazutaka returned to the infirmary, and his eyes widened when he saw Hisoka unconscious on the floor.

"Hisoka!" Hisoka was deathly pale, his body as cold as ice. "Hisoka?" Hisoka's moan was thin, face pinched with pain. On the white skin of his arms, the curse marks were burning brightly in the color of fresh blood.

"Saki," Kazutaka ground out the name like a curse. It seemed his brother was determined to force his hand. Gently, he laid Hisoka on the bed next to Tsuzuki, and brushed a tender kiss on the damp brow, memorizing the beloved face. Reluctantly he straightened and tried to step back, only to be brought up short by Hisoka's hand clutching his shirt. Even unconscious, Hisoka was seeking him, clinging to him.

Kazutaka took a quick breath, trying to keep the surge of tenderness and love tightly under control, and exhaled. After few careful breaths, he phoned Watari, drumming his fingers impatiently against the wooden table while he waited for Watari to pick up.

"Mm? I mean, hello?"

"Watari-san, it's Kazutaka."

"Oh hey, Kazu-kun. What's up?"

"Could you come over to the infirmary?"

"Something wrong with Tsuzuki?"

"No, it's Hisoka. He's unconscious and cold as ice."

There was a stunned pause. Unexpectedly calm, Watari simply said, "I'll be right there," and hung up. Kazutaka sighed and brushed another kiss on Hisoka's lips, and with a last glance at Hisoka's unconscious form, willed himself back to Earth.

* * *

"Took you long enough. Would you like some tea, perhaps? I remember your favorite was – "

"Shut up. What have you done to Hisoka?" Kazutaka demanded, but Saki merely smiled at him in that maddeningly superior way.

"Ah, I thought that might get your attention."

Kazutaka's hands clenched tighter, nails digging into his palms. "Whatever you're doing, stop now."

"Or what, Kazutaka dear? You'll kill me?" Saki's laughter rang in the empty room.

Kazutaka's lips drew into a taut line, his knuckles white. "What is it that you want?" His voice held a hint of helplessness, and Saki's eyes glinted in malicious satisfaction.

"Come back to me, Kazutaka." Blood drained from Kazutaka's face. His brother's insane obsession with him had not changed one whit since his death. "Become mine again, and I promise not to touch the boy or your little friends."

"I was never yours," Kazutaka whispered, but his voice sounded weak even to his ears.

"You were always mine. You never could deny the darkness in your soul." Kazutaka shook his head in denial, but Saki continued, relentless. "You know it's true. Do you remember what your mother used to call you? The devil's child. A pretty little doll, with silver eyes...and no heart."

"Shut up," Kazutaka whispered, but Saki merely laughed.

"Take a good look at yourself, Kazutaka: a god of death, whose job is to hunt down humans and kill them. You're just as evil and bloodstained as I am. Stop denying your darkness."

"I joined Shokan Division to stop murderers like _you_!"

Saki's laughed was cold and derisive. "Is that what you tell yourself?"

"It's the truth," a calm voice replied in his stead, and Kazutaka froze in his spot. The familiar voice was frightening because of how misplaced it was. Why was Hisoka here? Kazutaka turned, half disbelieving, but sure enough, it was Hisoka, pale but composed, standing with a hand resting on the doorway.

Saki seemed just as taken aback, but regained himself in an instant. "Ah, my beautiful puppet."

Hisoka did not rise to the challenge. "It's over, Saki."

Mildly surprised by Hisoka's confidence, Saki frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't think I'm stupid enough to come here without backup, do you?" Saki's eyes narrowed, not quite believing yet. "Every shinigami in Juohcho has been summoned to this place. Even you can't win against all of Meifu."

Saki did not reply. Seeing his brother waver for the first time, hope blossomed in Kazutaka's heart. Slowly, he moved away from Saki, cautiously making his way to Hisoka when Saki made no movement to stop him.

"Do you really think you can escape me?"

Kazutaka froze in mid-step, halfway between Saki and Hisoka. There was an icy calm in Saki's voice.

The icy calmness of madness.

Kazutaka scarcely sensed the power amassing in Saki when a blast hit Hisoka like tidal waves. Hisoka was still for a second, his eyes wide, then crumpled to the floor. Kazutaka, rooted to the floor, stared in silent, frozen horror as a pool of blood grew under Hisoka. His mind would not register the mess that was Hisoka's chest, the shirt completely soaked in blood. Blood bubbled up in Hisoka's mouth, breaking his paralysis, and instantly Kazutaka was at Hisoka's side.

"Kazu...taka..."

"Don't talk. It will be all right. It will be..." The other shinigami would be here soon, and they would be saved. He could hear indistinct shouts outside coming closer and closer.

"They'll be too late, Kazutaka," Saki said softly, almost as if reading his mind, and Kazutaka tasted blood in his mouth, surprised breath leaving him in a strangled gasp. It didn't hurt, the metal blade that pierced his heart, but it was cold and unpleasant and he could not speak or breathe as the red stain blossomed in his white shirt. "I'll have you, one way or another. Wouldn't it be beautiful, Kazutaka? A true lovers' death."

Flames. Suddenly there were flames everywhere. His eyes blurred, and he held his breath against the sharp twinge as the katana slid out of his body. That did hurt, go figure. He knew he should try to stanch the bleeding, but his limbs felt leaden and he couldn't lift them anymore. The circle of fire was drawing closer, and the heat was intense, like molten lava. Come to think of it, the color of the flame was strange, too.

"This fire can destroy even a shinigami's immortal body. It was difficult to obtain the necessary information to summon it, but it was worth the effort." Saki's voice sounded far away, and Kazutaka struggled to keep his focus on Hisoka, whose eyes were open and staring at him. Shinigami's healing powers kicked in quickly, but it didn't mean the healing process was any less painful than it would be for a human. Yet Hisoka's eyes were clear and intent, drawing Kazutaka closer; Kazutaka lurched forward and landed beside Hisoka, leaning over him. Saki's sibilant whisper rang somewhere above them, insipid. "No one will pull us apart, ever, Kazutaka. We'll be together even in death..."

Kazutaka ignored him. Hisoka's lips were moving slightly, forming words. "Kazutaka...I love you..."

The whisper, barely audible over the roar of the fire, snapped him back into reality. Hisoka did not deserve to be caught in this fight. Hisoka did not deserve to die this way. Hisoka deserved to live. But with both of them so seriously injured and the deadly sea of flames surrounding them, they would not be able to get away in time...

A sudden white glow growing about Kazutaka threw Saki back a few paces, and he stared at his younger brother incredulously. The light emanating from Kazutaka was pure white, raw energy pulsing with every beat of his heart. Kazutaka's eyes were closed, his hair forming a pale silver halo around his head, and he looked like an angel in the blinding light, sacred and inviolate, pure and ethereal. His eyes fixed on Kazutaka, Saki did not notice his clothes catching the fire.

"Together forever, my Kazutaka!" With last laughter of triumphant madness, Saki was gone, engulfed in the dark flames.

Kazutaka concentrated, oblivious to all else, forming a shield around himself and Hisoka, and simultaneously pouring all of his life force into Hisoka's body. The flame was licking the boundaries of the kekkai, burning them even through the shield, making the transparent walls tremble and shiver like summer haze, threatening to rip through the kekkai like paper. Where were the other shinigami? He could hear the distant shouts over the roar of fire, but they sounded so far away.

If his strength gave out before help arrived, in his weakened state, Hisoka would...

"Hisoka, hold on. Please...stay with me." His voice cracked with tears. His exertion from maintaining the shield was making him dizzy, almost losing sight of Hisoka's face.

"Hisoka, please..."

There was no answer. The strain of his power was a physical agony, needles of pain stabbing through his spine. With a desperate sob, Kazutaka kissed Hisoka, holding the fragile body much too tightly, but unable to let go.

_If there is anyone listening..._

"Hisoka..."

_...then please...hear my prayer._

Tears of pain blurred his vision. The transparent walls were splintering, dissolving faster and faster as the heat seeped through the cracks.

_Save Hisoka, even if I die._

"...I love you."

_Save the person I love the most._

The kekkai disintegrated completely, and Kazutaka lost consciousness in the deafening roar of the flames, collapsing on top of Hisoka.

**END OF PART FIVE**

**Author's Long Excuse:** I apologize very sincerely to everyone who waited for this chapter to come out. My real-life over the past year had gotten so busy that I just didn't have the time or the energy to edit this part. There was also a lot of personal embarrassment regarding Sakuran; this fic was written from February to April of 2003 (I kid you not), and looking back at it now was not easy. On one hand, I felt obligated to finish posting the fic, but on the other hand, I was so embarrassed by its quality that I was more than once tempted to take down the whole thing.

There is one more part left that incorporates what used to be the epilogue. Hopefully that will be posted within a couple weeks. So hopes this lazy author, for hope springs eternal. Thank you, all!


	7. Part Six: Return to Innocence

**SAKURAN**

_by Shiraume _

_Innocence is a form of ignorance. (1)_

**PART SIX: Return to Innocence**

"Hisoka?"

Green eyes opened slowly, and focused on a blur of purple.

"AAAH!" Tsuzuki jumped away. "You idiot! Don't do that!" Hisoka exclaimed, sitting up with a scowl on his face, but Tsuzuki chuckled, obviously recovered from his surprise.

"Sorry. But I wanted to tell you it's lunch time."

"Eh...?" Hisoka blinked.

Tsuzuki was grinning. "You fell asleep while doing your paperwork"

"I fell asleep?" Hisoka could feel the heat rising in his face, and inwardly cursed his fair complexion that hid nothing.

"Yep! And you looked so cute when you were sleeping!"

"You...you idiot!"

Tsuzuki chuckled again, unfazed by the indignant tone. The blush staining Hisoka's cheeks never failed to please him mightily; Hisoka looked so innocent and sweet when he blushed like that. "Come on, Hisoka. Don't you want to eat lunch with me? Let's go outside. It's a beautiful day"

Like he could say no to those wide, pleading purple eyes. "...Fine." Resigned, Hisoka got up and followed his partner. Before he left the office, he looked back at the empty room, as if searching for something.

"Hisoka?"

"Sorry. I felt like I forgot something." Tsuzuki gave him a confused look, and Hisoka almost smiled; Tsuzuki looked exactly like a curious puppy just now. "It's nothing. Let's go."

* * *

The image of Tsuzuki and Hisoka walking down the hallway wavered like a surface of water. A hand reached out to touch it lightly, and the image rippled from the point of contact. 

"Fate is like a game of poker, isn't it?" The young girl with sad blue eyes did not reply. A bitter laugh, then: "A full house is a full house, no matter what the suit. As long as all the right cards are in one hand, it doesn't matter which suits end up in it." Single silver eye glinted. "And all of us are merely God's deck of cards, dealt anew with each game. Nothing more."

She looked away, but turned her eyes back to him when the mild voice calmly continued. "God's fate decreed one-third of the angels fall; it didn't matter to Him _which_ third."

"Sensei..." Tsubaki-hime's voice was pained. "The only way to grant your wish, to save Hisoka's life, was..."

"– To turn the world back to how it used to be. I know." A pause. "Once again, Muraki Kazutaka, not Shidou Saki, is the one who fell from grace." The adult Muraki's lips curved in a smile that did not reach his eye. "I don't mind."

"Sensei, your memories from the other world..." Tsubaki-hime began, but trailed off.

A shrug. "Which, unfortunately, only I have. What about them?"

Tsubaki-hime bit her lower lip. "I would take them away if I could. But I can't."

Muraki chuckled. "Oh, don't worry. This isn't your fault. If anything, none of this would have happened if bouya did not make _his_ wish in the first place." Tsubaki-hime flinched, but did not answer. Muraki turned his back to her, walking into the darkness towards to his own consciousness. Tsubaki-hime watched, her expression helpless and angry and sad.

Just before Muraki faded from her sight, his soft voice floated back to her, so quiet that it was nearly lost in the darkness around him.

"The trouble is, I'm not sure if I can bring myself to hate him for it."

* * *

Tsuzuki and Hisoka picked a spot under the sakura trees to eat lunch. Soon, Watari unexpectedly surfaced from his lab and joined them, dragging a reluctant Tatsumi behind him. Hisoka almost smiled; it was the first time they were all together since the Kyoto incident, and having Tatsumi and Watari with them somehow made him feel warmer. More complete. 

Despite the lingering pain Hisoka could sense deep inside, Tsuzuki was cheerful, chattering like his old self and trying to steal Hisoka's food. Kyoto was still fresh in their mind, but they had survived, possibly even stronger for the experience; since then, Tsuzuki's emotions felt more balanced and grounded. Hisoka no longer tried to suppress the warm feelings inside him, for and from Tsuzuki, and did not resist a smile, listening to Tsuzuki with only half an ear.

A sakura petal landed on the back of his hand, tickling his knuckles. Although sakura blossoms usually reminded him of unpleasant memories, today Hisoka noticed how beautiful the petal was. Oddly enough, though, this petal was pure white in its color. Weren't Juohcho's sakura blossoms pale pink?

Impulsively, Hisoka picked up the petal and brought it to his lips. The softness of the petal felt strangely familiar, yet he could not quite place the feeling. A warm breeze caressed Hisoka's face like a gentle hand, lifting the petal and carrying it away, and Hisoka watched with an inexplicable sense of loss as the white petal drifted in the wind, moving farther and farther away from him.

"Hisoka?"

Startled, Hisoka brought his attention back to his partner. Behind Tsuzuki's worried face, Tatsumi and Watari were also staring at him in concern. It was only then Hisoka realized a tear was running down his cheek. Slowly, Tsuzuki reached out and brushed away the tear, the gentle touch easing the sudden tightness in his chest, and Hisoka closed his eyes. Tatsumi quietly cleared his throat at what was obviously a private display of affection, but Tsuzuki paid him no heed, taking Hisoka's hand into his own. Hisoka felt the warm feelings flooding into him again from the contact. Concern, affection, and however they might express or even perceive it, love.

Love that was as pure and exquisite as the sakura blossoms that rained over them warmed his heart, and Hisoka gave Tsuzuki a rare, heartfelt smile.

"I'm okay. It's just...the sakura blossoms are beautiful today."

"Aa. They are."

The two lapsed into silence, still holding hands. Tatsumi and Watari exchanged a look, keeping a discreet silence to allow them the precious moment. A few minutes later, the four of them engaged in another conversation, livelier and happier.

The white sakura petals floated in the air, enveloped in the embrace of the breeze gentle as a baby's breath. A new burst of wind scattered them and the airborne petals drifted upward, floating higher and higher. The sun shone brightly, catching the sakura petals as they ascended towards heaven.

**FINIS**

(1) So saith the author. Yes, tomatoes and rotten vegetables this way, please.

**Author's Note:** Sorry about the short chapter. Truthfully, this whole fic was one gigantic blob when it was first written, but I divided it up to make the editing easier in 2004, when I began posting it.

Thank you so much for all your encouragement and support, especially those who commented to tell me they like this fanfic. It meant a lot to me and gave me the push I really needed while I was dragging through the editing process over -- good Lord -- two years. (It would have been faster to just write another fic. For seriously.) And thank you very much for your patience. I love you all.


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